


Prodigy

by Adrianna99



Series: Prodigies [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Violinist!Viktor, Violinist!Yuri, Violist!Yuuri, Weddings, because i'm weak for fluff, but like really light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 122,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrianna99/pseuds/Adrianna99
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is the most talented young violinist in the world, so he's understandably devastated when an injury prevents him from playing professionally for at least a year.  But when his mentor suggests he take on a student to keep from getting rusty, Viktor finds new inspiration in a place he never thought he would: a violist.Viktor Nikiforov wasn't at all what Yuuri expected, and when he accepts the older man's offer to help him win the most prestigious musical competition in the world, Yuuri gets a lot more than he bargained for.





	1. Blessing in Disguise

**Author's Note:**

> I think this AU will be a lot of fun! I'm looking forward to exploring this universe! However, a few things to say before I start:
> 
> One of the major themes of this work is Yuuri overcoming his anxiety to succeed in ways he didn't believe possible, and finding confidence in his own worth and skills. Because of this, there will be times that Yuuri struggles with his own self-doubt, and has negative thoughts about himself. I will clearly mark any chapters that have anything that could be considered a trigger, including panic attacks, but please be careful and don't read if you think this will bother you, and please let me know if you read something that you think should be marked, or if there's something I should fix. I hope to portray Yuuri's anxiety in a realistic way and show how he is able to succeed in his career despite the obstacles that face him.
> 
> I am not a professional musician. I don't plan on being a professional musician. Because of this, there will undoubtably be some inaccuracies about instruments I don't play, and even some I do. I've done my best to research anything I might need to know, but I have taken some liberties, including making up contests and pieces of music. This is an AU, so I guess suspend your disbelief if it bothers you.
> 
> Other than that, I have nothing else to say. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor makes a mistake and a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An orchestra AU? Why not? Obviously, I don't own Yuri!!! on Ice, or any of the pieces mentioned. I'm sure this sort of premise has been done before, but I can't get this AU out of my head, so... Here it goes!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

"Viktor.It's nearly time."

"The door is open," Viktor Nikiforov called without turning.He sat in an uncomfortable folding chair, hunched over protectively, fingers flying soundlessly over the strings of his violin.The door opened.

"Viktor," Yakov sighed, staring down at the musician."The concert starts in fifteen minutes.You should be in the wings by now."

"Hm," Viktor murmured absently, fingertips sliding up the A string to hit the correct note.With the thumb of his other hand he lightly touched the strings, not quite plucking, to make the smallest possible notes.

Yakov sighed loudly."That means now, Viktor," he said.There was something in his voice, a warning, that made Viktor get to his feet, left hand wrapped loosely around the neck of his violin.

"I'm ready, Yakov," he said.

Yakov scowled."You had better be," he said."Playing with the Berlin Philharmonic isn't nothing."

Viktor flashed him a smile as he picked up his bow, lightly touching the very tip to make sure he had enough rosin.

Yakov's expression softened."You will do well, Vitya," he said."You will give everyone in the audience a performance they will never forget."

"Is Yuri here?" Viktor asked with false nonchalance, dangling his bow from a finger on the hand still holding his violin so he could properly close and latch his case.

"He and Lilia are already in the audience," Yakov answered with a firm nod.

Viktor's smile grew more genuine."Good.I want him to see."

"There won't _be_ anything to see if you don't get on the damn stage," Yakov said, but there was no bite to his words.

Viktor nodded, and followed his mentor out of the small dressing room and into the hallway that led to the stage.As they walked, he switched his violin and bow to his other hand before flexing and curling the fingers of his left hand.His fingers were tired, and his pinky had been bothering him for a few weeks now, but Viktor chose to ignore it.He might be getting old, at twenty seven, but there was no way he was going to let his age get in the way of his performance.There was a reason he was widely acknowledged as one of the most talented musicians alive, definitely the most gifted violinist of his generation.

Viktor followed Yakov into the dim wings to the side of the stage.Thick velvet curtains obscured most of the view of the stage, but Viktor could hear the muted sounds of the orchestra warming up, the familiar singing of strings mixed with the low, reedy sounds of winds playing their parts.

The conductor of the orchestra met them in the wings, already sweating profusely."Mr. Nikiforov," he said, sticking out his hand to shake.

Viktor switched his violin back to his left hand, wincing a little as most of the weight bore down on his pinky, and shook the man's hand.

"Our first chair bass was sick at the last moment, so the second chair has taken over," the conductor informed him.

Viktor nodded."That's alright."

The conductor opened his mouth to say more but before he could get the words out, the sounds of the orchestra warming up quieted as the lights dimmed and the audience began to clap."Lovely!" The conductor exclaimed.He hurried away, off to where ever he needed to be right before going on stage.

Viktor turned to Yakov."I'll be fine," he said."You can go sit with Yuri and Lilia if you want."

Yakov just gave him a look, one eyebrow raised.

Viktor shrugged."Suit yourself."  He turned half away, straightening the jacket of his tuxedo. Yakov sighed, but said nothing.

Viktor waited patiently, the only sign of his true feelings the tapping index finger on the fingerboard of his violin, until a stage hand came to get him."This way, Mr. Nikiforov," she whispered, beckoning him.Viktor offered one last nod to Yakov before following her. He waited in the wings just off the stage until he heard his name, and then affixed a gracious, pleasant smile to his face before walking on.

The crowd reacted immediately with enthusiastic applause, and Viktor saw with amusement through the gloom that some of them were standing.He walked slowly across the wooden boards of the stage, past a few rows of first violins, before reaching the cleared open spot where he would stand to play.Viktor smiled politely and shook hands with the concertmaster and the conductor, hiding his wince as the movement jostled his left pinky.That done, he turned to face the crowd and offered them a tight smile and a small bow, doing his best not to squint into the blinding spotlights.He straightened and lifted his violin to his shoulder, trading the bow to his right hand but leaving his arm down by his side for now. The audience quieted, and Viktor heard the orchestra behind him move almost as one to get ready to play by some signal from the conductor.

Viktor adjusted his grip on his instrument slightly, nestling it into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, sweat already beading on his brow under the hot stage lights.He lifted his bow, and the audience fell silent.Viktor closed his eyes, breathing in the hush.This moment, here- this was his favorite.Not a sound, absolutely none, met Viktor's ears.You could literally hear a pin drop in the enormous concert hall.Everyone was frozen, holding their breaths, waiting.Waiting for _him_.

The power was incredible.

Viktor let a small, genuine smile curls his lips before he lowered his bow to the strings and the first [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRxofEmo3HA) rang out into the blank, beautiful silence.

***

"How could you be so _stupid_?" Yakov raged.

Viktor sighed, propping his chin up with his right hand.He had gotten this speech before, or various versions of it. _How could you be so stupid, so reckless, so thoughtless._ This was the first time he agreed with Yakov's assessment."I didn't think it would be this bad," Viktor admitted quietly."I thought I could play through it, and it would be fine."

Yakov sputtered incoherently for a moment, and then managed to choke out, "Thought you could _play through it_?"

Viktor shrugged.“I’ve played through aches and pains before.”

Yakov gritted his teeth, clearly irritated by Viktor’s dismissal.“Viktor,” he said very slowly.“I hope you realize that this injury may prevent you from playing for at least a month.”

Viktor hung his head.“Yes, I understand that.”

Yakov pressed his lips together, but pulled up a chair next to the injured violinist.Viktor couldn’t look him in the eye, instead choosing to stare at his hands.

After playing in the concert, with a forty minute violin concerto before the intermission and a symphony after, his left pinky had been killing him.Viktor had done his utmost to ignore the shooting pain that lanced up his arm, but Yakov had noticed him wincing and forced him to admit that he was injured.So far no one in the nearby clinic to the concert hall had delivered a diagnosis, but Viktor knew his situation wasn’t good.

Yakov sighed heavily.“Yuri wants to see you,” he said in a low voice.

Viktor nodded without looking up.Yakov sighed again, but stood and opened the door to the exam room they were waiting in for a doctor to come see them.

Yuri Plisetsky bounded into the room, the worry clear on his face for a split second until he schooled it into an expression of irritation.The younger boy leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, and then informed him, “You’re fucking stupid.”

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose with a quiet sigh.“I know.”

“Language, Yuri,” Yakov said reprovingly, but without much anger.

“What are you going to do?” Yuri asked bluntly.“Are you going to finish the concert cycle?”

“Yes,” Viktor said, looking up.

At the same time, Yakov said, “Absolutely not.”

Viktor looked up at the older man with wide eyes.“Why not?”

Yakov scowled.“And allow you to injure yourself further?Over my dead body.”

Viktor got to his feet, ready and willing to get into an argument, but before he could say anything the door to the exam room opened and a doctor walked in.“Mr. Nikiforov?” he said in accented English.

“That’s me,” Viktor said with a sigh as the anger drained out of him.Yakov made a subtle gesture and Yuri left the room without a word.

“Let’s see, Mr. Nikiforov,” the doctor said, and Viktor offered his left hand.He tried not to wince as the doctor poked and prodded at his finger, but by the concerned looks he was getting from Yakov he evidently didn’t succeed.The doctor tutted, and then said, “I can do a more in-depth examination if you like, but from what i can tell you’ve severely hyperextended your pinky.And you must have been doing something oddly, because your wrist is slightly sprained as well.”

Viktor winced.He _had_ been accommodating a little during the concert to put a little less strain on his pinky, but it seemed like that had done more harm than good.

“We’re going to have to splint it, and brace your wrist, to make sure it heals correctly," the doctor said.  "Mind telling me how this happened?”

Viktor just blinked at him, shocked the man hadn’t heard of him, and Yakov answered, “He’s a professional violinist.”

“Hm,” the doctor murmured.“Well, no playing for at least a month.From what I can tell this hyperextension has been exacerbated by repeated movement.How long had your finger been bothering you?”

Viktor flinched.“Um… A month or two?” he guessed.

The doctor stared at him.“And you didn’t say anything?”

“I had concerts to play,” Viktor replied defensively.

The doctor sighed.“Wait here,” he said.“I’ll get what I need to splint this.But Mr. Nikiforov, due to the extended stress to your finger I wouldn’t recommend playing at all for a month, or playing rigorously in any sort of formal concert setting for at least six months.Playing through this injury has made it much worse than it could have been, so it’s going to take longer to heal than it should.”With that pronouncement, he left.

“Viktor-” Yakov started.

“I know,” Viktor mumbled.He slumped back into his chair and covered his face with his hands.The door opened again and Viktor looked up, expecting the doctor to return, but instead Yuri came back in, shutting the door behind him.

“I was listening,” he said, and to Viktor’s surprise his face was ashen.“You can’t play for six months?What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Viktor replied, rubbing at his mouth.He felt nauseous.Sometimes he hated playing the violin, absolutely despised it, but most of the time it was as much a part of him as his name, or his silvery hair.He had devoted his life to the violin.How would he be able to survive a week without playing, much less six months?

“You could take on students,” Yakov said softly.

Viktor looked up.“What?”

Yakov shrugged.“When I couldn’t play anymore because of the arthritis in my fingers, I took on students.You know that, you were one of my first.”Viktor nodded slowly.He remembered his early days, back when he was five, when he had first been introduced to the great violinist Yakov Feltsman, who would eventually become both his teacher and his friend.

“Viktor teaching?Please,” Yuri scoffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets.“He couldn't teach a fish to swim.”

“Enough, Yuri,” Yakov said.

Viktor shrugged.“I don't know,” he said.“I suppose it would help my musicality stay up to scratch, but it wouldn’t be fair to any students I took on.I fully intend to return to playing as soon as I’m able.”

Yakov nodded.“Just think about it.”He looked like he wanted to say something else, but before he could get any words out the doctor bustled back in to splint Viktor’s finger, and the thought of becoming a violin teacher was temporarily chased out of everyone’s thoughts.

***

It was close to two in the morning when Viktor got back to his hotel room, but he already knew he was too wired to sleep.The doctors parting words still rang in his head: _“Don’t play for at least six months,”_ he had said. _“But if you want my professional opinion, I wouldn’t play for a year to ensure that you don’t injure yourself again or worsen the existing injury."_

Yakov, predictably, had agreed.Why was it that he was concerned for Viktor’s wellbeing after injuring something as stupid as his pinky finger, but not worried at all when Viktor stayed up until two AM the night before a concert practicing?But the older man was unforgiving, even when Viktor begged to play in a shorter time.After all, how hard could it be to train himself to play without his fourth finger for a little while?

Viktor gently set his violin case down by the door, and then flopped face first onto his bed.As exhausted as he was, his mind was racing.Sleep wouldn’t come easily, even though he knew perfectly well that he had an early flight back to St. Petersburg the next morning.

With a groan, Viktor sat up on his bed, wincing more with surprise than pain as his finger splint briefly caught on the duvet.After staring at the wall for a moment, Viktor got up and undressed, getting out of his now-wrinkled suit and into a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants to sleep in.That done, he grabbed his laptop before settling under the covers in bed.

Viktor unlocked his computer and opened YouTube, fully intending to look up some cute puppy videos that he could use to calm himself down, but one of the videos in the Trending section caught his eye.

_Panic at the Symphony! What Could Have Been a Catastrophic Failure Wasn’t!_ read the label under the video.Viktor hovered over the thumbnail for a moment before shrugging and clicking.It probably wasn’t as interesting as puppies, but Viktor was tired and his judgement was questionable.

The video took a moment to load, and then the grainy image of a stage appeared on the screen.Viktor squinted, and then enlarged the screen before pressing play.

The video was clearly taken by an amateur, probably illicitly on a cell phone; the visuals were flickery and shaky, fuzzing out along the edges, and there was the low sound of someone breathing in the background.But despite the flaws, it was clear enough what the video was: a concert of some sort, with a full orchestra already on stage, probably professional judging by the look of the venue.

As Viktor watched, the camera zoomed in on the figure of a young man standing at the forefront of the orchestra, clearly a soloist getting ready to play.Viktor pressed his lips together.He recognized the tune of the piece being played, but couldn’t figure out what it was.On screen, the soloist lifted his instrument to his shoulder and then began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMpzPMkrALM%20) with the orchestra.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat.The soloist’s sound was beautiful, unspeakably gorgeous and passionate beyond belief; despite playing what didn’t seem like a technically difficult piece, the notes sounded like they were alive, like they were already living and the soloist was just bringing them into sight for the rest of the world to marvel at.The music seemed to live in him, expressed by his instrument like it was just another limb.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Viktor critiqued the soloist’s form- his elbow was a smidgen too high, his stance should be a little wider so he wouldn’t lose his balance on a particularly violent bow stroke- but most of Viktor’s conscious thought was caught up in the music.

And just as he was completely entranced, lost in the waterfall of notes and wishing it would never end, he heard the thin, unmistakable sound of a string snapping, and the soloist flinched a little.

“Oh, god,” someone near the photographer whispered, and Viktor couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.Covering his mouth with his hand in horror, Viktor watched wide-eyed as the soloist missed perhaps one note, mostly covered up by the orchestra, and then continued without faltering, fingers sliding up as high as eleventh or twelfth position in order to hit the notes he needed.As the last notes rang out, Viktor realized he had been holding this breath since the soloist’s string had snapped, and slowly let it out as the last chord faded and the audience of the concert burst into applause.

The video ended, and Viktor stared breathlessly at the screen in the sudden, empty silence of the hotel room.After a long moment, mind racing, Viktor scrolled down a little to see the video’s description: _Katsuki Yuuri playing with the Boston Philharmonic! Can’t believe I saw this live! #blessed._

Viktor swallowed hard, licked his dry lips, and then opened up another window and typed in the musician’s name, Katsuki Yuuri.And then froze as the results loaded.Because Katsuki Yuuri wasn’t a talented, up-and-coming violinist like Viktor had assumed based on his playing.

He was a violist.

Viktor blinked in utter shock at the screen, and then rubbed his eyes.The information was still there.

_Katsuki Yuuri.23.Japanese by birth.Plays the viola professionally._

Viktor slowly navigated to the Wikipedia page for the young musician, reading the information numbly.That done, he returned to Youtube and searched for Katsuki Yuuri, watching clips of the violist playing both by himself, or with orchestras, for over an hour.Even when he was young, and clearly less experienced, Katsuki’s musicality was astounding… maybe even better than Viktor’s own, even though the Japanese man’s style wasn’t as neat and meticulous.

Eventually he stumbled upon a clip of an interview between Katsuki and a reporter.“What are your plans for the future, Mr. Katsuki?” the reporter asked.

Katsuki Yuuri blinked, and ruffled his fingers through his hair.He was clearly still in concert attire, in a trim black suit with his hair gelled back, and Viktor couldn’t help but absently note that he was very good looking.“To be honest, I haven’t given the future much thought,” Katsuki replied.He rubbed at his forehead, and then added, “My long-time teacher, mentor, and manager, Celestino Cialdini, is going into retirement after this concert cycle.I may decide to retire from playing professionally as well.I’ve always wanted to teach younger kids how to play the viola.I just haven’t decided yet.I plan to make a formal announcement after the last concert of my cycle, in Moscow with the Russian National Orchestra in a few weeks.”

The reporter asked another question, but Viktor didn’t register it.He sat frozen for a moment as the video continued to play, flickering bluish light over his features and the wall behind him, and then frantically opened a new tab and did a quick search.After a long minute of loading, Viktor saw the information he needed and breathed a long sigh of relief.The interview between Katsuki and the reporter was fairly recent, which meant that his last concert in Moscow hadn’t happened yet.

And Viktor was going to see it.

***

“Why are we doing this again?” Yuri asked irately, walking quickly to keep up with Viktor.

It was the night of Katsuki Yuuri’s concert in Moscow, and Viktor had travelled from St. Petersburg that morning, just in time to strong-arm Yuri into coming with him.

“Have you heard of him, Yura?” Viktor asked excitedly as they made their way into the concert hall.

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Of course I have.Everyone has.He’s only the most famous solo violist in the world right now.I don’t get why _you’re_ so excited about this.”

Viktor blinked at him in surprise.“Wait, you’ve heard of him?”

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Yes.Unlike you, I don’t live under a mountain of sheet music.I actually pay attention.”

Viktor winced at that.Sure, it was true that for someone so adept at charming others he was awful at names and faces, but it wasn’t fair to say that he didn’t know _anything_ about the goings on in the music world.He just wasn’t as caught up as he should be.“Well, I’m making up for my lack of attention now,” Viktor said brightly, pulling Yuri with him in the direction of their seats.

“And I’m along for the ride.Great,” Yuri muttered.

“Don’t be bitter, Yura,” Viktor scolded.“Wouldn’t you rather have a nice night at the symphony than holed up in your basement practicing?”

Yuri shrugged noncommittally.“I have to start preparing my qualifying piece for the ICC soon.”

Viktor flinched.Right.The International Concerto Competition, the most prestigious musical competition in the world.The competition Viktor had won for the last five years, and the competition he wouldn’t be able to enter this year due to his _stupid.Fucking.Finger._

Viktor forced a smile.“One night won't hurt you,” he said with false cheer as he tugged Yuri into the correct row and all but shoved him into his seat.That done, he sat in his own seat and pulled out a program.

Yuri sighed heavily, but slumped down in his chair without protest and started scrolling through his phone.“I hope you’re going to put that away before the concert starts,” Viktor chided.

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Yes, _dad,”_ he replied mockingly.

Viktor sighed and shook his head, turning his attention back to the program.He had to squint to even read the information about the pieces, the musicians, and the orchestra in the dim light.Damn.Maybe he _was_ getting old, like Yuri always told him.The house lights flickered once, twice, and Viktor sat up straight with a gasp of excitement.

“It’s starting, Yuri!” he exclaimed in a raw whisper.

Yuri rolled his eyes so hard Viktor was half-convinced they were going to get stuck that way.“No shit,” he muttered, but Viktor didn’t miss how he immediately slipped his phone in his pocket and sat up a little straighter so he could see the stage.

The house lights flickered once more and then dimmed as the orchestra onstage quieted, echoed by the audience.Viktor glanced down at his program, struggling to read in the dim light.The first piece they were playing was the Viola Concerto in B Minor, by Casadesus.It sounded vaguely familiar, although Viktor was sure he had never played it himself.

Yuri elbowed him, and then hissed, “Pay attention, old man.You’re going to ruin your eyes, trying to read.”

Viktor just sighed, exasperated.

Satisfied, Yuri turned his attention back to the stage just as the conductor walked onstage and everyone began to clap.Viktor clapped politely, but kept his attention on the right side of the stage.Sure enough, after a moment, Katsuki Yuuri walked onstage with his viola in hand and a small smile on his face to enthusiastic applause.Viktor clapped so hard his hands hurt.

Katsuki shook hands with the conductor, with the concert master, and then faced the audience and bowed deeply.That done, he lifted his instrument to his shoulder and turned his attention to the conductor.

The conductor lifted his hand, waited a breathless moment as everyone froze in anticipation, and then Katsuki put his bow to the string and began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fMReZ2HQgAI%20).

***

Later, Viktor realized, that moment, the moment when Yuuri’s first note rang clear through the concert hall and struck a chord deep in Viktor’s soul, was when he realized that he would be taking on a student in his year off.

And that student would be violist Katsuki Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up in the next few days. If you have any questions about this AU, feel free to ask or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/) and I'll do my best to answer. That's about it, so have a lovely day, dear reader!


	2. Idol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri meets his idol, and gets a surprising proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with chapter 2! Thank you to everyone who gave kudos or commented on the last chapter, it made my day! Now without further ado, I give you... awkward Yuuri, extra Viktor, grumpy Yurio, and adorable protective Phichit!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Katsuki Yuuri was exhausted, utterly spent, but in the best possible way.The tips of his fingers burned, his arm was tired from holding his viola up for so long despite the years of practice, there was a twinge of pain in his lower back when he stood up too straight, but Yuuri couldn’t help but think it was worth it.He had succeeded, he hadn’t failed catastrophically like he had a few concerts ago when his string had snapped, he hadn’t panicked in the middle of the stage, he probably wouldn’t even need to curl up into a ball back in his hotel room and cry in shame.

He took his last bow onstage with a wide, genuine smile, and then followed the conductor off.“Thank you very much, Mr. Katsuki,” he said with a smile, shaking Yuuri’s hand one last time.

Yuuri smiled, and gave him a small bow.“It was an honor to play with you,” he replied.

The conductor waved him off.“Nonsense.The honor was mine.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Yuuri excused himself to go pack up his things.As a guest soloist playing for a fairly prestigious orchestra in a reasonably-sized venue, Yuuri had been given a small dressing room to store his case and bags in.Once his viola was gently cleaned of any rosin dust and locked along with his bow in his case, Yuuri let himself relax.After snapping a string at a concert (in front of a live audience, how _mortifying_ ), he had taken care to be extra gentle with his instrument.Viola away, Yuuri faced the small mirror on the wall opposite him and loosened his bowtie, letting it hang loose around his neck.

He was just contemplating changing into the more comfortable jeans and sweater he had brought when there was a knock at the door.Yuuri grinned, and then opened it.

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, practically jumping on him in a hug.Yuuri laughed, hugging his friend back.Phichit was a little younger than him, twenty, and still in college.Because of that, although he planned to play the clarinet professionally once he graduated, their manager Celestino wouldn’t let him play a full concert cycle.However, he insisted on coming to hear Yuuri play as much as possible, even though Yuuri was sure Phichit knew his pieces almost as well as he did after listening to Yuuri practice obsessively.

“How did I sound?” Yuuri asked.

Phichit clung to him another moment before stepping back.“You were amazing, Yuuri!” he said in excitement.

Yuuri smiled slightly.He knew he had made a plethora of mistakes during his performance- played the triplets a little too fast, his forte was a bit soft for the size of the orchestra he had played with, he had completely missed a note when jumping positions, and he would watch the recording Celestino had made for him later to pinpoint more of his flaws- but now he just let his friend chatter on about how well he had supposedly done.

“-And then Ciao Ciao handed me the camera, and I think he was maybe crying a little bit, because it was so beautiful,” Phichit said and Yuuri guiltily forced himself back into the real world.

“Where _is_ Celestino?” Yuuri asked, latching onto the name.

Phichit frowned thoughtfully.“You know, I haven’t the faintest idea,” he admitted.“I ran ahead to find you.Maybe he got lost?”

Yuuri just raised an eyebrow.“Somehow I doubt that,” he replied.“I know he’s been here before.”

Phichit just shrugged.“Maybe he found an admiring fan to talk to.”

Yuuri laughed.“Maybe.”

Celestino perhaps wasn’t as famous as a musician- his career as a professional violinist had been fairly short and nothing special- but he was well known in the music world as a skilled mentor and manager who was adept at helping other musicians become famous and successful.He had even taught Yuuri viola for about a year, before he admitted that Yuuri’s skill level surpassed his own and passed him on to a different teacher, while staying on to help him manage his professional career.Yuuri didn’t know what he was going to do without Celestino’s help after the older man retired… one of the reasons he was seriously considering retirement himself.

“Hey, are you going to change?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri shrugged.“I was going to change my shirt,” he said.

Phichit grinned, and tugged at the starched collar of his own suit.“Wish I could say the same.I’ll wait outside.”

Yuuri smiled gratefully as his friend left, and then quickly took off his shirt and replaced it with the warm, soft sweater that still smelled like home despite having been stuck in a suitcase for days.He missed home.He and Phichit had lived in the United States for a few years now, sharing the same apartment for the last year and a half.Yuuri hadn’t been back to Japan for more than a few days while playing in a concert in five years.Although that would change quickly, if Yuuri really decided to retire, because he couldn’t think of anywhere else he could go besides Hasetsu, but Yuuri wasn’t sure he would even be able to _really_ go back.He missed Hasetsu, he missed his family, he missed his old friends, but their lives had gone on without him.  There were some things he would never be able to get back, and those five years he might have spent in Japan was one of them. His parents were very supportive, of course, and proud of him, although neither of them had any musical talent whatsoever, but the last time Yuuri had spoken to his mother in person had been a year ago when he was in Japan and close enough to Hasetsu to justify taking a detour.

Yuuri covered his mouth, feeling a little sick.God, he hadn’t even been there when his _dog_ had died.His sister Mari had called to tell him that Vicchan was at the veterinarian’s office, probably going to die after being hit by a car, and Yuuri had ignored it because he was about to go onstage for a concert.He was pretty sure prioritizing his career over his childhood puppy made him a terrible person.But if Yuuri retired from playing professionally… where else could he go but Hasetsu?Where else would he be welcome?He was fairly sure he would still be welcome at his parents’ onsen, even if it didn’t feel like home anymore.

But that would mean he might never see Phichit again, play viola onstage under the spotlights again.That thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.Maybe he would be able to find peace and closure if he went home, finally shake the crippling anxiety that hit him before performing _every single time_ , but… What was he without music?Irrelevant.Yuuri knew that’s what he would be.He hated the pressure sometimes, hated the anxiety of everyone expecting to be amazed whenever he so much as played a scale, hated the constant feeling that he was onstage, never alone, always being watched… but could he really give it all up?

Yuuri changed into jeans and sneakers, mind racing, and then quickly packed his clothes and sheet music into his bag before opening the door.

Phichit leaned against the wall, smiling as he scrolled through social media on his phone.“Ciao Ciao texted me,” he told Yuuri.“He found some friends, went to get drinks for old time’s sake.Is that OK?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said quickly.He would never want his career to get in the way of someone else’s life, especially someone more important than he was.

“Need any help?” Phichit asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.“Hey, do you still have my jacket in there?”

Yuuri snagged Phichit’s jacket off the back of a chair, and handed it to him.Phichit eagerly shrugged it on.The Thai man didn’t do well with cold, and Russia, even at that time of year, was far too cold for him.Yuuri put on his own jacket, and then pulled his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed his duffel bag and viola case.Without asking, Phichit pried the duffel out of his hand and slung it over his own shoulder.

“Got everything?” Phichit checked, giving Yuuri a small smile, and Yuuri had to remind himself that _he_ was the older one.Sometimes he forgot, with all of Phichit’s mother henning.

“Yep,” Yuuri replied, and patted his viola case.“Most important thing, check.The both of us, check.Phone, bags, check.”

Phichit let out a small puff of air through his nose.“You’re more important than your instrument, Yuuri,” he said, nudging his friend’s shoulder.“You can buy another viola.You can’t buy another Yuuri.”

Yuuri blinked hard.He was tearing up because of his contacts, definitely not because Phichit always knew the right thing to say.Damn it, though, his contacts really _were_ bothering him.He should have brought his glasses to change into.

“ _We_ could go get drinks too, after dropping off your stuff,” Phichit said slyly.“In celebration.”

Yuuri pressed his lips together, thinking.They had done this before.He and Phichit would go to a bar for a few drinks, and end up getting wasted.Phichit wasn’t even legally allowed to drink back in the US, so he tended to overindulge when he had the chance, and Yuuri was well-known not to handle alcohol well.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said.“We can’t get wasted.We have to fly back to America tomorrow.You _know_ what it’s like to have a hangover on a plane.”

Phichit waved a hand.“When have _we_ ever gotten wasted?” he said dismissively.Yuuri gave him a deadpanned look.Phichit huffed.“Alright, fine, college was an experience.”

“Still is for you, kid,” Yuuri muttered, and then yelped as Phichit nailed him in the side with a sharp elbow.

“But we should do something!” Phichit exclaimed with wide eyes.“Yuuri, I think that was one of your best concerts ever!I’m not even exaggerating.You played really well, and you should acknowledge that.Preferably with alcohol, but if you really don’t want to drink, we could order room service and watch bad movies.”

Yuuri forced a smile.“That sounds fun, Phichit, but I still don’t think my performance was anything that special.In fact, Celestino should have emailed me the recording by now, I should-” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and then stared at Phichit when the Thai man snatched it out of his hand.

“No,” Phichit said sternly.“You’re not looking at that tonight.”Yuuri gave him a pleading look, and Phichit exhaled loudly.“You and I both know that if you watch that video, you’ll end up crying and beating yourself up about nonexistent mistakes.You can do that back home.Now, we have fun.”

He tucked Yuuri’s phone into his own pocket.Yuuri just blinked at him, nonplussed.They had stopped almost in the middle of the hallway, still in the labyrinthine back halls of the concert venue, but Phichit ignored the few strange looks they got from passers by, staring down Yuuri until he nodded reluctantly.

“Good,” Phichit said, and then broke into a grin.“Hey, you know, the King and the Skater is available for legal streaming now.We should watch it.The soundtrack is awesome.And we can eat weird Russian food from room service in your hotel room.”

Yuuri’s forced smile became less forced.“Alright,” he said with a small nod.“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“And then we can FaceTime my hamsters,” Phichit continued, slinging an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders as they walked down the hall.“And maybe troll people on Instagram by tagging you in pictures to incite your fans.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but before he could reply he heard a voice calling his name.“Yuuri!” someone shouted a little breathlessly.“Katsuki Yuuri!”

“What do you want to do?” Phichit whispered as they slowed.Yuuri sighed.He really didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone besides Phichit at the moment, but Yuuri knew he didn’t have many fans as it was, so if someone really wanted to talk to him he should respect that.It was only polite.

Yuuri turned to see a man around his age walking quickly down the hall in their direction, followed reluctantly by an irritated looking teenager.And then the man got closer, and Yuuri’s jaw dropped, because he _recognized_ that silvery, silky hair that fell across those icy eyes.

Viktor Nikiforov.

Widely acknowledged as the most talented living violinist.

Five time winner of the International Concerto Competition.

And he was talking to _Yuuri._

Yuuri was sure he made a choking sound in the back of his throat, and if Phichit’s arm hadn’t still been around his shoulder he was sure he would have tripped or keeled over or something.He was suddenly _certain_ that Viktor knew about the half a dozen posters Yuuri had back in his room at his and Phichit’s apartment of the famous violinist performing with various famous orchestras.

“Steady,” Phichit murmured, because Phichit knew about Yuuri’s hero worship, and his anxiety, and his strong negative feelings about meeting new people without any warning, and could probably make the same conclusion that Yuuri had: a freak-out was possibly imminent.

“Katsuki Yuuri!” Viktor exclaimed again as he neared, stumbling slightly over the foreign name.He stuck out a hand.“I’m-”

“You’re Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri whispered, throat raw and mouth dry.He fumbled his viola case into his left hand in order to shake Viktor’s.

Viktor gave him a brilliant smile.“You’ve heard of me?” he asked in Russian accented English.All Yuuri could do was nod frantically, because _of course_ he had heard of Viktor Nikiforov.Nearly everyone had, and his name cropped up often, especially in the musical community.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

Viktor’s smile flickered the tiniest bit before reasserting itself with more brightness than before.“Oh, right!” he said cheerfully.“Well, I guess technically we aren’t authorized personnel, and shouldn’t be back here, but one of the staff members recognized me and let me and Yura through when I said I wanted to talk to you.”

By that time, the teenager with Viktor had caught up, and he kicked Viktor in the ankle.“Stupid,” he scoffed, his accent slightly thicker than Viktor’s.“He’s asking why you’re at his concert.”

Viktor turned his attention to the boy, and placed a hand on his shoulder.“Yura, be polite,” he scolded, and then turned back to Yuuri and Phichit.“This is-”

“Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuuri breathed, eyes wide.The teenager dipped his chin slightly, loose blond hair falling over one narrowed green eye.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding slightly suspicious, as if unsure why Yuuri would know him.Yuuri didn’t know why he _wouldn’t_ have heard of the young violinist, who had won the Junior World Prodigy competition the previous year.Yuuri had seen the performance online, and had been amazed and, honestly, a little intimidated, by Yuri’s skill.

“Hi,” Phichit said with a small wave, his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders tightening slightly.

“Oh!Right,” Yuuri muttered guiltily.“Um, this is my friend Phichit Chulanont.”

“The clarinetist?” Yuri Plisetsky asked in a bored voice, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yep!” Phichit said cheerfully, beaming at him.

Viktor glanced between them, looking very confused.“Do you two know each other?”

Yuri rolled his eyes.“The musical community is big, Viktor, but not that big,” he said in annoyance.“If you actually _pay attention,_ it’s not that difficult to be up to date on most of the bigger names.”

Phichit smiled at Yuri, clearly pleased at being called a “bigger name.”“I also played in the orchestra for the American qualifier of the Junior World Prodigy competition, so I’ve seen you play,” Phichit told him.Yuuri couldn’t help but smile slightly at that.Phichit had been so excited when he had been drafted for that orchestra, so excited to play in such a widely-known event, even though he had been playing as orchestral accompaniment to soloists.He had put in at least ten extra hours of practice in the week leading up to the qualifier, to ensure that he would play his best.Yuuri had barely seen him that week, between school and rehearsals and practice, but it didn’t bother him because Phichit had been over the moon.

Yuri gave a sharp nod, and then turned to Yuuri and said grudgingly, “Your concert wasn’t awful, I suppose.I didn’t have to use the ear plugs I brought.”Yuuri, not quite sure how to take that, just smiled a little shakily.

“Yu-ra,” Viktor scolded in a sing-song, stepping on Yuri’s toes.The teenager hissed like a cat and took a large step away from Viktor.“Say what you want to, and then I want to leave,” he snapped.“Grandfather made extra pirozhki for you, but if you don’t stay the night I can have it without him knowing.”

Viktor rolled his eyes.“Charming, Yura.”He turned back to face Yuuri, and gave him a blinding smile.Yuuri just stared blankly at him, trying not to let the shock show on his face and figure out exactly what he had done for such a talented and successful musician to smile at him like that.“You played a lovely concert, Mr. Katsuki,” he said.

“Yuuri,” Yuuri said numbly.“You can call me Yuuri.”

Viktor’s smile grew a little less blindingly charming and more personal.“Yuuri,” he repeated, and Yuuri couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the sound of his name on the other man’s lips, slightly distorted by his accent.“You play with such beauty and passion, Yuuri,” Viktor continued.“It amazes me.I’ve never seen anything like it!”He smiled expectantly at Yuuri, who could do no more than gape at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.Luckily, Phichit came to the rescue.

“Yuuri has always been good at playing passionately,” he said in a bit of a stiff voice, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of Viktor.Yuuri noticed Viktor giving him and Phichit an appraising look, and then Phichit removed his arm from around Yuuri’s shoulders, although he stayed close enough to press their shoulders together.

“I really enjoyed your concert, Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, looking down almost bashfully, and for the first time Yuuri noticed that he was picking at the black velcro of a brace around his wrist.

“What happened to your hand?” Yuuri blurted, and then closed his eyes with a pained expression.God, why couldn’t he act like a normal human being around this man?Yuuri knew he was socially awkward on a good day, and being around the world-famous musician he had admired for years just seemed to make that awkwardness worse.

Viktor’s face fell before he reaffixed a smile that seemed a little forced.“That’s a funny story, actually,” he said.“You see, there was a burglar, and I had to hang off the side of a moving train to stop him from stealing a very valuable diamond necklace-”

“He hyperextended his pinky,” Yuri Plisetsky interrupted.“And then, like a fucking idiot, decided to keep playing on it and sprained his wrist as well.”

“That’s awful!” Yuuri gasped, and Phichit gave a sympathetic hum of agreement.Yuuri was considering retirement, sure, but he couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be forcefully banned from playing because of an injury outside of his control.“How long do you have until you can play again?” he asked.

Viktor pressed his lips together, not even trying to force a smile now.“A few months.”Yuuri winced.Viktor took a deep breath, and then smiled brightly again, and said in a too-cheerful voice, “Anyways.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, and muttered something disparaging under his breath.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me,” Viktor said, clearly changing the subject, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on Yuuri.“I’d love to talk with you in more depth.”

Yuuri stared at him for another moment, and then managed to stammer somehow, “I- uh- sure!”

Phichit looked at him out of the corner of his eye.“Are you sure, Yuuri?” he asked.

Yuuri nodded.“Yeah.”

Yuri Plisetsky eyed the three of them, and then seemed to come to a decision.“I’m going back to Grandfather’s, and I’m eating your pirozhki,” he informed Viktor, sounding irritated.“I suppose if you really want to you can stay the night, but if you get wasted I’m not cleaning your puke out of the carpet.”

“Do you want me to call a cab for you?” Viktor asked kindly.

Yuri shot him a poisonous glare.“I’m sixteen, I can call a fucking cab by myself,” he snapped.“And if you wake up my grandfather when you come in at two in the morning, I’ll fucking kill you, old man.”With that he turned on his heel and stalked away, clenched fists stuffed in his pockets.The other three musicians watched him go.

“Sorry about Yura,” Viktor said apologetically, turning his attention back to Yuuri and Phichit once Yuri had rounded the corner.“I think he’s tired.”

Phichit shrugged.“We all had our angsty teenage days,” he replied.

Yuuri looked at him in surprise.“You did?” he asked with a small laugh.It was hard to imagine the cheerful, bubbly, kind Phichit having an angsty _anything._

Phichit chuckled.“Well, maybe my teenage years weren’t all that angsty, but I definitely made my parents angsty with all the hamsters I had.I think I had twelve when I was sixteen.”

Yuuri stared at him.“You have a problem.”

Phichit smirked.“See, that’s what my mom said.”

Viktor made a small sound, shifting awkwardly, and Yuuri remembered guiltily that the violinist was still standing there, probably unsure as to whether he should join the conversation.“Uh, should we go?” Yuuri mumbled.

Viktor grinned.“Sounds good!”

“Yuuri and I should drop off his things at out hotel first,” Phichit said, squinting a little at Viktor.

Viktor’s smile didn’t flicker.“Excellent!” he said.“I’ll walk with you.”

If Phichit noticed Yuuri’s nervous shiver, he didn’t say anything.They turned to walk down the hall, and Viktor fell into step with them.Yuuri noticed that the Russian violinist opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

They walked in slightly uncomfortable silence until they reached the back door and stepped out onto the street.Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief.He had been a bit worried that someone would approach them (maybe from the press, although he was still unclear as to why they would want to talk to him anyways), and being seen with Viktor Nikiforov, of all people, would just make the pressure worse.

Viktor raised a hand with an experienced air to hail a cab, and then asked them, “What’s your hotel?”

P hichit eyed him, but told him the name.A car pulled up to the curb, and the driver rolled down the window.Viktor leaned down to talk to him, gesturing to Yuuri and Phichit as he said something in Russian.The driver snorted, and then replied.Viktor shook his head, and said something else, more insistently.The driver squinted, and then said something in return, but this time Yuuri caught Viktor’s name.Viktor brightened, and nodded.The driver rolled his eyes, and jerked his chin in a nod.

“Go ahead,” Viktor said to Yuuri and Phichit with a cheerful smile, opening the back door.Yuuri glanced at Phichit, who shrugged.Yuuri smiled nervously, and slid in with Phichit close behind him.Viktor got in last and slammed the door shut just as the driver pulled away from the curb with a jerk.He said something in Russian, and Viktor laughed lightly before replying.

Yuuri and Phichit looked at each other, squeezed together in the small back of the car, knees crowded by Yuuri’s bags and viola case.At least if they were being kidnapped, Yuuri could whack someone with his case so he and Phichit could run away.Although that might hurt his viola, which would be a pain to fix, and despite being a reasonably successful musician Yuuri sent a lot of his money to his family in Hasetsu.Yuuri sat bolt upright as a thought occurred to him, and then fumbled for his wallet.

“Viktor, how much is it?” he asked, flicking through his wallet and hoping he had remembered to bring Russian money.God, he was so _stupid_!

“Don’t worry about it, Yuuri.” Viktor said soothingly as they pulled up in front of the hotel which, honestly, wasn’t all that far from the concert hall.Yuuri tried to stammer out a promise that he would pay Viktor back, but Viktor more or less ignored him as they got out of the car and he handed the driver some bills.The cab took off as soon as the driver had been paid, and Viktor turned to Yuuri and Phichit with a brilliant grin. “Let’s go, shall we?” he said.

Yuuri followed numbly as Viktor led them into the hotel.At his side, Phichit looked confused, wary, and perhaps a bit irritated, but said nothing.Viktor chattered about something or other as they waited for the elevator and then rode up to the correct floor, but Yuuri couldn’t hear the words he was saying.His head felt fuzzy and filled with cotton, and the only thing that kept him from sitting down, squeezing his eyes shut, and trying to think straight without the pressure of being expected to act normal around his fucking _idol_ was Phichit’s light touch on his forearm.That touch didn’t leave as Phichit led Yuuri and Viktor to the correct room and unlocked the door.

Viktor looked around the room with interest as Phichit closed the door behind them and set Yuuri’s bag on the floor off to the side.Yuuri stowed his viola in the closet as soon as he got inside the room, put his duffel in front of it so it wasn’t immediately visible, and closed the door again.

“I need to change,” Phichit said, tugging anxiously at his collar, and then grabbed some clothes from his suitcase and stepped into the bathroom.Yuuri wandered after him, grabbing his glasses on the way, intending to take out his contacts.God, those things itched.Phichit glanced at him, and then gently closed the door.“Are you alright?” he said in a low voice.

Yuuri nodded.Phichit grabbed his hands to stop the shaking.“Breathe, Yuuri,” he said, making eye contact.Yuuri closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths.When he stopped shaking, Phichit let go of his hands.“Talk to me?” he said, loosening his tie.

Yuuri faced the bathroom mirror and set his glasses on the counter before digging out his contact case and saline solution.“I don’t know what to think,” he admitted.“Why is he _here_ , Phichit?Why does he want to talk to _me_ , of all people?”

“You’re underselling yourself again, Yuuri,” Phichit said quietly as he took off his suit jacket and neatly folded it before placing it on the lowered lid of the toilet.He hesitated, and then admitted in an even lower voice, “But I do think he has some sort of ulterior motive.”

Yuuri tried to pinch out one of his contacts, but his hands were shaking so badly that he only succeeded in poking himself in the eye.“What motive?” he asked, blinking and resisting the urge to rub his eye in case he got his contact stuck.

Phichit sighed quietly.“I’m not sure,” he admitted.“Yuuri, please don’t take this the wrong way, but Nikiforov has never contacted you before.Why is he reaching out now?What does he want from you?”

Yuuri succeeded in pinching out his left contact, and put it away before trying to take out the right one.That done, he turned and blinked blindly at Phichit before sliding his glasses on.“What could Viktor Nikiforov want that _I_ have?” he pointed out.

Phichit frowned slightly.“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice slightly muffled as he pulled a sweater over his head.

“Phichit… you’re coming with me, right?” Yuuri asked worriedly.

Phichit grinned at him, hair mussed.“I was going to go even if you didn’t want me there,” he chirped, and then gathered his discarded clothes.“Come on, let’s make sure he hasn’t poked around too much or helped himself to the minibar.” Yuuri laughed a little, and finger-combed his hair before following Phichit out of the bathroom.

They found Viktor standing with his back to them and his hands clasped behind his back, looking out the window at the view of Moscow.Yuuri couldn’t help but think that he looked like some brooding storybook hero, with his dark suit and serious, pensive expression, silvery hair falling over his face.That illusion was shattered when Viktor turned and smiled at them.

“Ready?” he asked, and then blinked at Yuuri.“I didn’t know you wear glasses.”

Yuuri shuffled his feet, ducking his head and nervously sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose.“Um… yeah.”

Viktor’s smile softened a little.“That’s adorable,” he said.Yuuri just blinked at him, wide-eyed.

Phichit glanced between the two of them, eyes narrowed, and then plunked his bundle of clothes on top of his suitcase and said cheerfully, “I’m ready to get wasted!”

“You’re not getting wasted, Phichit,” Yuuri said, rolling his eyes.

Phichit laughed, staggering into Yuuri.“What, you don’t want to have to drag my drunk ass up ten flights of stairs?”

Yuuri smiled back at his friend.“I’d just leave you to sleep on a couch in the lobby,” he replied.

“Oh!Betrayal!” Phichit cried.He turned to Viktor.“Do you know anywhere we can go?”

Viktor, who had been watching Phichit’s dramatics with an odd expression on his face, nodded.“It’s not far,” he said.“We can walk.”

He waited with his hands in his pockets as Yuuri put the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside of the door and Phichit locked it.The walk to the bar was in silence, but slightly less uncomfortable than the cab ride to the hotel.Yuuri no longer felt like he was going to jump out of his skin at any moment.Phichit seemed a little more relaxed as well, occasionally glancing at Yuuri to shoot him a smile as they strolled down the street.Yuuri couldn’t read Viktor as well as he could read his best friend, but as they walked the slope of the older man’s shoulders relaxed a bit.He was still wearing his dark jacket and tie from the symphony under his overcoat, not having had the opportunity to change, but the dress clothes somehow suited him.

They reached the bar and were seated after their IDs had been checked, but Viktor didn’t say anything about why he wanted to talk to Yuuri until they had drinks.

“Yuuri,” Viktor started, trailing one fingertip around the edge of his glass of vodka.“As I mentioned earlier, the injuries in my left hand and wrist prevent me from playing for several months.It’s likely I won’t be able to play the violin in a concert for at least a year.”

“That's too bad,” Phichit said, taking a sip of his beer and slumping in his chair.He tended to get more relaxed and loose-lipped with some alcohol in him.Yuuri just stared at the table in front of him, using one finger to connect the dots of condensation on his own beer.

Viktor sighed, steepled his fingers, leaned forward.“My mentor, Yakov, suggested I take on a student during my hiatus to keep up my own skills.Yuuri, your passion is incredible, you are enthralling onstage.But there are some technical elements of your performance, as well as some performance aspects, that could be improved with help.I believe I could offer you that help.”

Yuuri looked up sharply.“What are you saying?”

Viktor offered him a small smile.“I’d like to be your teacher, for a year,” he said.“In about ten month’s time, the finals of the International Concerto Competition will be held in Barcelona, Spain.I think you should enter into the competition.And with my help, you’re going to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for now! Next chapter should be up in a few days. I'm aiming for the 3rd of August. As always, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a stupendous day, dear reader!


	3. Unexpected Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor and Yuri argue, and Yuuri comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Yurio...
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Viktor wasn’t exactly sure what it was he had said, but for some reason Katsuki Yuuri was staring at him openmouthed, and his friend (Phichit?Yes, that sounded right) looked extremely unimpressed.

“Wh-what?” Yuuri finally stammered.

Viktor blinked.The bar they were in wasn’t that loud, but maybe Yuuri hadn’t heard him.“I said I want to help you win the International Concerto Competition,” he repeated. Yuuri just blinked at him, expressive brown eyes wide behind his glasses.Viktor cocked his head, confused.Why were the other two musicians staring at him like he had beamed down from outer space?

Yuuri took a long drag of his beer, set it down with a clack against the table, and then said firmly, “You’re absolutely insane.”

Now it was Viktor’s turn to stare.“Wait, what?”

Yuuri set his jaw.Now that he had had something to drink, and seemed to have gotten used to Viktor’s presence, he was a little more relaxed.“Did you just bring me here to make fun of me?” Yuuri said, brow furrowed.

Viktor gaped at him.“What?No!” he exclaimed.

Phichit swilled his beer around the bottom of the bottle for a moment before he said, “Mr. Nikiforov-”

“Viktor,” Viktor interrupted, smiling beatifically.

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“Alright.Viktor, the International Concerto Competition has been going on for over fifty years now.A violist hasn’t won _once_."

“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” Viktor said happily.

Yuuri made a choked sound in the back of his throat, and then downed another large mouthful of beer.“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Viktor thought he heard the violist mutter.

Viktor squinted at him.“Are you saying you don’t think you can do it?” he asked.

Phichit placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.“If anyone can do it, Yuuri can,” he said firmly.“I’m just not convinced that it can be done.”

“Viktor, the highest a violist has ever placed in the ICC is fifth,” Yuuri informed him, as if he didn’t already know.

Viktor arched an eyebrow.“Have you ever even given it a try?”

Yuuri flushed at that.“Well… no,” he admitted, and then straightened.“But that doesn’t mean it would be possible anyway.”

Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek.This wasn’t going at all how he had imagined it.He had envisioned that when he announced he would teach Yuuri and help him win the ICC, Yuuri would thank him profusely and insist they start right away.Maybe even kiss him on the cheek, overwhelmed with gratitude.Viktor wasn’t so proud that he couldn’t admit to himself that he found Yuuri quite attractive.

Which was currently irrelevant.

Viktor jolted as he realized he had been staring dreamily at Yuuri for at least thirty seconds, and the Japanese violist was giving him a strange look.“Listen,” Viktor said, gesturing with his uninjured hand.“You’ll never know if you can win unless you try.With my experience and technical expertise, not to mention my exemplary teaching skills, combined with your passion and musicality, I think we could have a fighting chance.”

Yuuri sighed deeply.Phichit glanced at him in concern, but leaned back, clearly having decided to step out of the conversation for the time being.Viktor studied Yuuri, waiting until the other man’s eyes darted up.He made eye contact and held it.Yuuri went a little red.

Viktor leaned in a little, and took one of Yuuri’s hands between both of his.“Why can’t you trust me?” he asked.

Yuuri swallowed hard, cheeks pink and eyes fixed on Viktor’s face.“I- I-“ he stammered.

Viktor gripped Yuuri’s fingers a little tighter.He could feel the other man’s pulse fluttering under his fingertips.“You’re stronger than you think, Yuuri,” he said.Yuuri opened and closed his mouth, and then tore his hand from Viktor’s grasp.

“I just don’t know,” he mumbled, averting his eyes.He drained his drink, and then said, “Phichit is going to enter this year.I don’t want to get in his way.”

“Don’t let me keep you from doing something you want, Yuuri,” Phichit said quietly.

Yuuri ducked his head.“I need to think about it,” he said quietly, and then his eyes flicked up to meet Viktor’s.“Can I think about it?”

Viktor nodded.“Of course, Yuuri,” he said soothingly.“Please do think about it.” _And please make the right decision,_ Viktor added silently.

***

Viktor slept in later than he was used to the next morning.He wasn’t exactly hungover, per say, just disinclined to get out of the warm and comfortable bed in Yuri’s guest bedroom after getting to the other boy’s home at about one in the morning.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side.Around nine, the door opened with a small creak and a click.Viktor muffled a groan into his pillow as bright sunlight lanced through the crack in the door.

“Get up, you lazy shit,” Yuri growled as he stalked into the room, followed by one of his cats.In reply, Viktor pulled the covers over his head.Yuri crossed the room and jerked the curtains open so violently that they almost ripped off the rod.“Get _up_ ,” he repeated insistently, and then dragged the duvet off of Viktor.

“Yu-ra!” Viktor whined.“I could have been sleeping naked!”

Yuri gave him an expression of absolute disgust.“You sure as fuck better not have been naked,” he snapped.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, gestured to the flannel pants he was wearing, and then flopped back onto the bed.He wiggled around, trying to find the warm spot on the sheets, and then looked up plaintively at Yuri.“Five more minutes?” he said hopefully.

Yuri rolled his eyes.“If you want to eat this morning, you should get your ass in gear,” he said.“I’m not making two courses for breakfast, and I’m sure as hell not letting you anywhere _near_ the kitchen because we both know you’d burn this place to the ground.”

Viktor sighed.“Fine,” he said petulantly, making sure his displeasure was known, and then got out of bed.

“And shower, you smell like shitty booze,” Yuri added.He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms as Viktor picked the duvet up off the floor and started to make the bed.“How was the date?” Yuri asked after a moment, with a strange note in his voice.

“It wasn’t a date,” Viktor said quickly, face heating.

Yuri made an unconvinced humming noise.“Please,” he snorted.“I saw the way you were looking at Katsuki, you definitely want to suck his-”

“Yuri!” Viktor interrupted loudly, going red.“Don’t be crude!”

Yuri shrugged dispassionately.“Being crude doesn’t make it any less true,” he said.

Viktor huffed indignantly, and then said delicately, “While it’s true that Yuuri is objectively an attractive man, it wasn’t a date.His friend Phichit went to the bar as well.”

“Oh,” Yuri drawled, nodding in understanding.“So _you_ were the third wheel.”

Viktor closed his eyes and prayed for patience.“I don’t understand why you would say that,” he said slowly.

Without looking, he knew Yuri shrugged.“I could see them being together,” he said thoughtfully.“They seemed pretty close.”

“We’re close friends,” Viktor pointed out, straightening the sheets and smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle.“But we’re not dating.Wouldn’t want to, either.”

“I’m sixteen,” Yuri grumbled.“You’re also ugly as fuck.And I’m not gay.”

Viktor hid a smile at that last comment, but said nothing.Yuri leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.“So if it wasn’t a date, then why were you out for three hours?” he asked as Viktor rooted through his overnight bag to find a clean change of clothes.

Viktor glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow.“Why were _you_ still up at one in the morning?” he returned.

Yuri glared at him.“I stayed up to make sure you didn’t do something stupid like bring someone to bed or wake up Grandfather.”

Viktor had to work hard to repress his smile.Even though he would never in a million years admit it, Yuri had been worried about him.Yuri caught the smile anyway, and scowled.“Frickin’ shower,” he mumbled as he turned to leave.“You smell like shit.”

“You already used that insult!” Viktor sang at Yuri’s back.The other boy made a rude gesture.Viktor chuckled under his breath as he picked up his pile of clothes and headed into the shower.

When he got out fifteen minutes later, the smell of something cooking wafted from the kitchen.Mouth watering, Viktor quickly folded his clothes and made sure everything he had brought with him was in his overnight bag.Just as he was about to leave and find out what exactly Yuri was cooking that smelled so mouth-watering, he caught sight of his phone on the floor by the bed, plugged into the wall.

Viktor lowered himself into a crosslegged position on the floor and then picked up his phone, only taking a moment to smile lovingly at the photo of his poodle Makkachin on the lock screen before unlocking it.Last night, before Yuuri and Phichit had left the bar to go back to their hotel, Viktor had gotten Yuuri’s phone number.He clicked on the messaging app with his thumb and opened the conversation with ‘Yuuri :) :)’.The only text was his from the night previous, so Yuuri could have his number as well.

Viktor chewed on his lip.Would it seem pushy to text this early?It hadn’t even been twelve hours.Viktor took a deep breath, and then typed out and sent a quick good morning.That done, he clicked the power button to turn off the screen and got to his feet, wandering out into the kitchen.

Yuri stood at the stove with his back to Viktor, cooking something in sweatpants and a sweatshirt with cat ears on the hood.

“What are you making?” Viktor asked curiously.

“Syrniki,” Yuri replied in an annoyed voice.“Get out plates, you lazy ass.”

Viktor smiled a little, but wordlessly opened the cupboard by his head to set the table.“Is your grandfather coming?” he asked.

Yuri pressed his lips together. “He’s still in bed,” he replied.“I’ll make a plate and bring it to him once we’re done.”

Viktor gave him a worried look, but didn’t say anything as he took two plates out of the cupboard.Yuri’s grandfather had been sick for some time now, but Yuri refused to believe that his only family might be dying.Viktor would probably have to insist that Nikolai be checked into a hospital soon.Yuri was in no way malicious, and his grandfather was probably the only person he openly cared deeply for, but he was also stubborn enough to believe that everything was alright until it suddenly obviously wasn’t.

“What do you want to drink?” Viktor asked as he rummaged in a different cupboard until he found tea leaves.

“Vodka,” Yuri grumbled sarcastically as he finished the last batch of syrniki and turned off the heat on the stove.

“Water it is,”Viktor replied cheerfully, pouring hot water from the old fashioned kettle on the stove over his tea leaves.He got Yuri a glass of water, and sat at the table as Yuri set breakfast in the middle.“Jam?” Viktor asked hopefully as he helped himself to the syrniki.The small cottage cheese dumplings were one of his favorite dishes, for both breakfast and dessert.Yuri rolled his eyes, but fetched jam from the fridge.Viktor happily helped himself to the jam and then started eating with a smile on his face.

“You never answered my question,” Yuri said as he took a sip of water.

Viktor glanced up.“What question?” he mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Yuri wrinkled his nose.“Why you were out so late,” he replied.

Viktor swallowed, and then said, “We talked for a while, and then I stayed for a few more drinks after they left.”

Yuri sighed heavily.“It’s a wonder I didn’t find you passed out on the carpet,” he muttered.

Viktor glared at him, insulted.“I don’t drink _that_ much,” he complained.

Yuri ignored him.“What did you talk about?” he asked.

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“You care why, exactly?”

Yuri squinted.“Let’s call it curiosity.”

V iktor shrugged.“So you know how Yakov suggested I take on a student while I can’t play?” he said, and then paused meaningfully.

Yuri stared at him for a moment uncomprehendingly, and then his eyes widened as it dawned on him.“Oh, no, Viktor, you didn’t,” he said, and then groaned and put his head down on the table.“What am I saying?Of course you did.”

“He’s very talented, Yuri,” Viktor said pleadingly.

Yuri kept his head down for another moment before making eye contact with Viktor.He looked like he was trying very hard to keep his expression under control.“Have you done _any_ research on Katsuki?” he asked.“He hasn’t had a private teacher for a few years.He’s too good for that.”

Viktor stared at Yuri.“Wait, what?”

Yuri scowled.“He hasn’t had a private teacher for years,” he repeated.“And then suddenly you waltz in and offer to teach him like he’s some grade school kid just learning the instrument?”

“Oh, no,” Viktor groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Yuri nodded, eyes narrowed.“If _I’m_ picking up on social cues that _you’ve_ missed, there’s a problem, Viktor,” he said scathingly.

“What do I do, Yura?” Viktor asked helplessly, his voice a bit muffled behind his hands.“He’s probably laughing at me.Or furious.”

“If you had listened to Yakov, this wouldn’t have happened,” Yuri muttered, low enough that Viktor guessed he hadn’t been meant to hear it.

Viktor glanced up, and said anyway, “What?”

Yuri’s eyes flashed, and for the first time Viktor saw the anger in them, boiling just beneath the surface.“It’s nothing,” Yuri said dismissively.

Viktor studied him.“What did you mean?” he asked insistently.“What did Yakov say that I missed?”

Yuri pressed his lips together.He took a deep breath, but Viktor heard it catch in the back of his throat.“It was supposed to be me,” he muttered, glaring so hard at the table that Viktor was surprised it didn’t disintegrate.

“What?” Viktor said, blinking.

Yuri looked up at him, eyes shining with anger.“When Yakov said you should take on a student.He was talking about _me._ ”

Viktor opened and closed his mouth before saying uncertainly, “He was?Yuri, I don’t know if I could teach you.”

Yuri moved his hands off the table and into his lap, but not before Viktor noticed that his fists were clenched.“Why not?” he ground out.

Viktor carefully considered his words, knowing that he might incense Yuri further, and then said, “You are like a brother to me, Yura.I don’t think I want to change our relationship to that of a student and teacher.Besides, you have Yakov.Isn’t he good enough?”

Yuri’s expression darkened, and Viktor winced.He had said the wrong thing, as he was oft to do when dealing with Yuri.“ _Yakov_ isn’t considered to be the greatest violinist alive,” he said bitterly, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched.“But of course, why would you want to teach _me?_ I’m clearly not as great as _Katsuki._ Figures you would pick a _violist_ over me.”

He got up abruptly, breathing hard and trembling with rage, like he was barely keeping himself in check.Viktor stared at him, surprised and a little afraid, wondering how Yuri had gotten so angry so fast.“Wash the dishes, Nikiforov,” he snarled, snatched the plate of food for his grandfather, and then stalked out.

“Yura!” Viktor called out after him when his voice returned.His answer was a door slammed so hard that it reverberated through the floor.Viktor flinched, and then got up and walked in the direction Yuri had gone.“Yura,” he said softly, tapping on Yuri’s door with his good hand.“Please come out.Please talk to me.We can figure something out.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Yuri answered with various iterations of ‘fuck you’ in several different languages.Viktor sighed, but stepped away and returned to the kitchen, wondering where Yuri had learned to curse in Kazakh, and why he was so furious.It had honestly never occurred to Viktor that Yuri might want to be his student; the younger boy was so abrasive, not to mention outspoken in his (mostly false) distaste of Viktor, that it didn’t seem to make sense that he would want them to spend _more_ time together.

Viktor gathered the dishes in the sink and started scrubbing at his plate, which was more difficult than he had expected with one wrist in a brace.How mad _was_ Yuri?The teenager often kept most of his emotions hidden behind a mask of disinterest and thinly-veiled disdain, so for him to be this passionately angry… Viktor sighed.He had messed up.That much was clear.But he couldn’t fix anything until Yuri would talk to him, and he wouldn’t talk until he had cooled down considerably.

Viktor stacked the last of the dishes in the drying rack, and then leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.Maybe it would be better if he went back to St. Petersburg for the time being.Yuri was furious, and it was more than likely that Viktor’s continued presence would only serve to set him off again.And Yuuri… Viktor groaned, accidentally hitting himself in the face with his wrist brace.He had struck out on both counts.He had pushed away Yuri, one of his few genuine friends in the musical community, and possibly made him angrier than he had been in a long time.And he had insulted and belittled Katsuki Yuuri, quite possibly the most talented solo violist in the world, by cluelessly offering to be his teacher.He was _such_ a fuck up.Not being able to play professionally _really_ didn’t suit him.

Viktor wandered numbly into the guest bedroom instead and began to check his bag to make sure he had everything.He would just return back to St. Petersburg for the time being.Maybe call Yuri later, to beg for forgiveness and try to figure out where to go from there.Viktor bent down to pick up his phone, and then froze.A notification lit up the screen, informing him that he had four messages from Yuuri.Viktor slowly sat down on the bed, face burning with embarrassment, and unlocked his phone before opening the messaging app.

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:27]**

Good morning, Viktor

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:27]**

Can we talk?

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:28]**

In person?

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:40]**

If you don’t want to, it’s completely OK, sorry for bothering you

 

Viktor couldn’t help but smile a little.Yuuri spoke in text just like he did in person.It made Viktor a little sad, though, that Yuuri thought he was being a bother.Viktor’s face fell.He _had_ to apologize for making such a large blunder and assuming Yuuri would automatically want his help when he probably didn’t need it.He bit his lip, and then texted back.

 

**From: You [9:43]**

You’re not bothering me at all, Yuuri! Sorry I didn’t reply right away, I was eating breakfast

 

**From: You [9:44]**

I’d love to talk in person.Where would you like to meet?

 

Viktor stared at his phone, and then tossed it on his bed with a sigh.Yuuri was probably mad at him, and wanted to chew him out for being such an ass.Although he _had_ made that comment about not wanting to bother Viktor, which implied he still cared about Viktor’s opinion.So maybe the whole situation wasn’t _completely_ screwed up.Viktor jumped as his phone buzzed, and then fumbled to unlock it.

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:46]**

There’s a cafe across the street from my hotel.Is that OK?

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:47]**

What works for you?

 

**From: You [9:47]**

That’s perfect!Is 10:15 alright?

 

**From: Yuuri :) :) [9:47]**

I’ll see you there

 

Viktor was smiling a little as he locked his phone, despite the situation with Yuri.He would get the chance to apologize to Yuuri in person, hopefully ensure that it wouldn’t ruin anything between them.Not that there was necessarily anything between them.

Viktor slid his phone in his pocket, grabbed his coat, and walked down the hall to Yuri’s room.At some point, the teenager had started playing loud music, and Viktor wasn’t sure if his knock carried over the racket.“I’m going out, Yura, I’ll be back in a little,” he said.

The volume of the music lowered just enough that Viktor could hear Yuri shout, “Fuck off!”

Viktor sighed.At least Yuri’s grandfather was nearly deaf, so he wouldn’t have heard the yelling and the loud music.Viktor leaned his head against the door.He would have to come back later anyway, to get his overnight bag.Maybe Yuri would talk to him then.

Viktor pulled his coat on and left Yuri’s house without another word.He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked down the street, head down.He wasn’t sure if he would be recognized, not being in his own city, but a young man with silver hair wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

He made it to the coffee shop Yuuri had mentioned in about twenty minutes, only a few minutes early, but as he walked in he spotted Yuuri already sitting at a table in the back nursing a steaming mug.Viktor smiled and crossed the room, pulling out the chair across from Yuuri and sitting down.

“Mr. Nikiforov!” Yuuri exclaimed, looking a little startled.His cheeks pinked.

Viktor smiled at him as he took off his jacket before draping it over the back of the chair. “You can call me Viktor, Yuuri,” he said.

Yuuri’s blush deepened.“Right,” he mumbled, looking down.The steam from his drink fogged up his glasses.

“I’ll be right back, OK?” Viktor said, and Yuuri nodded quickly, eyes widening.Viktor stood and went to the counter, ordering a coffee for himself before returning to where Yuuri was sitting.The Japanese violist was studying the table and picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his dark blue sweater, and he looked up sharply when Viktor sat down again.

“What did you want to talk about, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, taking a sip of his coffee.For some reason the younger man seemed skittish, as if he would bolt if someone made a loud noise or sudden movement.

Yuuri pressed his lips together, and then said quietly, “Viktor, about your offer last night…”

“Yuuri, I’m really sorry,” Viktor said when Yuuri paused, searching for words.“I didn’t do enough research before rushing in headlong.I apologize if I insulted you, and I promise I meant in no way to belittle you or your achievements.Will you forgive me?”

Yuuri looked up in surprise.He took off his glasses, rubbed one of the lenses with the edge of his sweater paw, and then slid them back on before saying, “Viktor, I’m not insulted.I… Do you really think I could win?”

Viktor nodded sincerely.“I do,” he said firmly.“I wasn’t lying when I said that your musicality and skill is incredible.Do you know that video of you has gone viral?”

Yuuri blinked owlishly.“What video?”

Viktor stared at him.“You mean you haven’t seen it?”

Yuuri looked a little scared.“Seen what?Viktor, what haven’t I seen?”

“Hold on,” Viktor said, slid his phone out of his pocket, and pulled up the video for Yuuri to watch.The Japanese man paled as the first [strains](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMpzPMkrALM) of the orchestra echoed out of the tinny speaker, watching open-mouthed with growing horror as the video played out.He flinched right before his string snapped, and when it did buried his face in his hands until the end of the song.

“See?” Viktor said, pleased.Now Yuuri would know exactly how many people thought he was amazing.Maybe it would make him less skittish.

“This is _awful_ ,” Yuuri groaned, and Viktor’s smile dropped off his face.

“What?” he said.“Yuuri, why would it be awful?”

Yuuri peeked at him through his fingers, looking like he was close to tears.“A video of me failing catastrophically has gone viral,” he said numbly.“This is so humiliating.Oh, god, what if my family sees this?This is _terrible_!”

Viktor frowned. “You didn’t fail catastrophically,” he said.

“Viktor, my string snapped in front of a live audience in the middle of a concert, which was bad enough,” Yuuri said, tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging sharply.“And now there’s videos of it on the internet, where everyone can see? _Oh, god_.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, putting down his phone.He reached out and gently untangled Yuuri's fingers from his hair before trapping both hands between his own.“Maybe if you stopped playing, it wouldn’t have been as successful,” he said quietly.“But you _didn’t,_ that’s what’s so incredible.You just adjusted and kept playing like it didn’t even phase you.Not too many musicians could do that, Yuuri.I’m not convinced _I_ could.”

Yuuri ducked his chin, but looked up at Viktor through his bangs.

“No one thinks less of you, Yuuri,” Viktor promised.“In fact, I think it’s probably just increased peoples admiration for you.I know it increased _my_ admiration.”That seemed like it was the right thing to say.Yuuri’s cheeks went pink again, and he looked less like he was about to cry.

“Listen,” Viktor said, and then unlocked his phone again.He hadn’t been lying when he had said that Yuuri had probably gained admiration after the concert where his strong broke.While there were one or two negative comments on the video, most were overwhelmingly positive, and Viktor began to read them out loud.“‘I can’t believe he did this, omg, how is he so amazing?!?’‘Katsuki is probably the best violist alive, and then he did this and… GAH HOW is he so good?’‘This is SO AMAZING!!!Thank you for existing Katsuki senpai!!!’‘This is incredible, he’s so talented!’‘How is he this good?I would have started crying if that had happened! He’s amazing!’”

“I did,” Yuuri said quietly.

Viktor looked up, putting his phone face down on the table.“What?”

“I did cry,” Yuuri whispered, avoiding Viktor’s eyes.“After that performance.”He swallowed hard, and then met Viktor’s gaze with surprising determination.“Viktor, if your offer still stands I’d like to take it,” he said in a quiet voice, but determination flashed in his eyes.“It won’t be easy.A violist has never won the International Concerto Competition, and that will be very difficult to change.And I’m not exactly the easiest musician to work with… The pressure gets to me, I always get super anxious before any sort of performance, I cry a lot… But if you’re still willing, I’d like it if you were my teacher.If you think you can help me get to the ICC.”

Viktor blinked, and then beamed at Yuuri.“That’s fantastic!” he exclaimed.“Yuuri, this is going to be amazing!If you don’t mind my asking, what changed your mind?You seemed sure that it was impossible last night.”

Yuuri nervously licked his lips.“After Phichit and I got back to our hotel, we talked for a long time.And then I… I called my family.And, um… My family and Phichit, they both said that I should take this opportunity while it’s being offered to me, because I might never get this chance again.”

Viktor had to smile at that, and reached out and squeezed Yuuri’s fingers.“To be honest, I didn’t think Phichit liked me,” he said.

Yuuri quickly shook his head.“He doesn’t dislike you,” he said.“He’s just not sure what to think of you yet.”He opened his mouth to add something, but a ping from somewhere interrupted him.“Oh!That’s me,” Yuuri said anxiously.He pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen.“I’m really sorry, Viktor,” Yuuri said, finishing his drink in one gulp and getting to his feet.“I have to go if I’m going to be able to catch my plane on time.”

“Of course,” Viktor replied, standing and ignoring the little flicker of disappointment that flared in his chest.He would be Yuuri’s teacher.That meant they would still be in contact.So why did he want to prolong this conversation as much as possible?

Yuuri offered him a nervous smile and said tentatively, “Can I call you when I get back to the States?So we can figure out how to make this work?”

Viktor smiled happily.“Of course, Yuuri!” he exclaimed, and then threw his arms around the other man in a hug.Yuuri stiffened for a moment, clearly taken by surprise, and then relaxed and patted Viktor on the shoulder.Viktor closed his eyes and smiled.Yuuri was warm, and soft despite some measure of muscular definition underneath his sweater and coat, and he smelled like peppermint tea.Viktor decided that he very much liked hugging Katsuki Yuuri.“I’m very glad you’ve decided to give me a chance, Yuuri,” Viktor breathed in Yuuri’s ear, and then pulled away.

Yuuri shuffled his feet, looking down, and then said, “I’ll, um.Hopefully I’ll see you, Viktor.”He smiled, and waved over his shoulder as he headed out.

“Bye, Yuuri!” Viktor called with a smile, and then sat down and finished his coffee.That done, he left the cafe with his hands in his pockets, his head held high, and a spring in his step.At least until he got back to Yuri’s apartment.

The teenager was waiting outside his door, leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone with Viktor’s bag at his feet.“Hi, Yura,” Viktor said cautiously.

Yuri didn’t look up from his phone.“He said he’d be your student, didn’t he,” he stated flatly.He stared at the screen of his phone, but his eyes didn’t move.

“How did you know?” Viktor said quietly.

Yuri’s lips twisted into an ugly smirk, but his voice was unnervingly calm.“Your footsteps sound happy.”

Viktor hesitated, nervously picking at the plastic of his brace, but said, “Yura, just because I’m going to teach Yuuri doesn’t mean I couldn’t teach you too.I didn’t know you wanted me as a teacher, but I’m sure we can find a way to makeit work-”

Yuri looked up at him for the first time, eyes burning with fury.“I don’t need your pity,” he snarled.He stepped closer to Viktor so that they were chest to chest, and then hissed, “I don’t want your pity.I don’t need _you_.I don’t need _anyone_!Especially not you.I’m going to enter the ICC, and I’m going to win. _Without_ you.”

With that, he turned on his heel and went back into his home, slamming the door in Viktor’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's about it. I'll have the next chapter on August 7th. As always, if you have questions or comments feel free to share, or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/). Have a sublime day, dear reader!


	4. Welcome to the States

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuri learns his lesson and Viktor finds a new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present to you: Angry Yurio. Also a super long end note. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Yuri Plisetsky was furious.

Ever since Viktor had left, since Viktor had _betrayed_ him, he could do no more than sit on the floor of his bedroom with the lights off and do his best not to scream in frustration and rage.It had taken everything he had in him to keep his voice calm when he was talking to Viktor, to stop himself from giving the older man a bloody nose.Katsuki would probably like Viktor a _lot_ less if his nose was broken.

Yuri clenched his fists so hard his fingernails dug into his palms.It wasn’t _fair._ Viktor was supposed to be _his,_ his friend, his brother, practically… And he had waltzed off to help some random violist _beat_ Yuri at the first opportunity.It wasn’t that Yuri didn’t respect Katsuki- he did, the violist was a pretty decent musician, he supposed- but he shouldn’t be Viktor’s student. _Yuri_ should be.

Yuri took a deep shuddering breath and scrubbed at his eyes.He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so upset about this, except that it felt like a betrayal.Other than his grandfather, Viktor was one of the few people Yuri actually cared about.He preferred to hide that behind layers of sarcasm and disdain, but he did care.And Viktor’s rejection hurt more than he wanted to admit.Yuri clenched his teeth so hard they felt like they were going to shatter.He wanted to scream, he wanted to hit something, he wanted to stop feeling so ridiculously angry.This shouldn’t matter.I _couldn’t._ He had meant every word he had said to Viktor.

Every.

_Single_.  

Word.

He would compete in the ICC for the first time, and he would win.He would beat Chulanont, he would beat Katsuki, and most importantly, he would beat Viktor.It didn’t matter if Viktor was going to play again when his wrist and fingers healed.No one would remember him.All they would be able to remember was Yuri. _He_ would be Russia’s prodigy.Not Viktor.

Yuri scrambled to his feet and flicked on his light.If he was going to win, he needed practice.As much as he was loath to admit, Katsuki was good.He had some sort of innate musicality, and probably at least five years of experience on Yuri.Yuri would have to practice extra to be able to play a piece difficult enough to beat him, beat everyone in the musical community.

Yuri pulled his violin into the middle of his room, and then dug around for something to practice.He hadn’t picked a piece for the ICC yet, but he had a few ideas of what he might want to do.Before he could even enter the qualifiers to get to the finals of the ICC, he would have to win some smaller competition, probably a national competition.Yakov had always organized that sort of thing when he was younger, and Yuri hadn’t really paid that much attention to what Viktor was doing.All he really knew was that he had to have two solo pieces polished, one for the national competition to gain credibility, and one for the ICC qualifiers and finals.

Yuri carefully unpacked his violin, running his fingers over the strings with the smallest smile before gently lifting it out of his case.He and his grandfather were by no means rich, and besides his grandfather’s pension, Yuri’s musical career was their only steady income, and that was only part time because stupid Yakov made him take online classes so he would graduate high school.It would be a devastating blow if anything ever happened to his violin.They wouldn’t be able to afford another one.

Yuri deftly tuned the instrument, tightened and rosined his bow a little, and then lifted his violin to his shoulder.He felt instantly calmer.This was something he was good at.One of the few things.He didn’t need people, he didn’t Viktor.His prowess with the violin wouldn’t abandon him too.

Yuri ran through all of his major and minor scales, did a chromatic one as far up as he could go for fun, and then rifled through a folder of sheet music before pulling out something to look at.He had been toying with Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto in D major for a few weeks now, and he was considering using the first movement for one of his performance pieces.It was technically difficult enough to work, if he could play it correctly, but there was also plenty of room for artistic interpretation.

Yuri took a deep breath, scanned the first page of music, and then drew his bow across the strings for the first [note](https://youtu.be/VEbyyqyKtM0).

***

When Yuri was done practicing, six and a half hours later, the tips of his fingers were bleeding.

***

Yuri played up to the bar of the Tchaikovsky he had learned the day before and stood frozen a moment before lowering his instrument.“Well?” he snapped, glaring at Yakov.

The older man stayed where he was slumped in a chair across from Yuri, thoughtfully rubbing his chin and squinting.“I don’t know,” he said after a long moment.

Yuri’s scowl deepened.“What do you mean, you don’t know?” he growled.

Yakov slowly got up and crossed the practice room so that he could look Yuri in the eyes.“I’m not sure you can pull this piece off,” he said flatly.

Yuri bristled.“I know I didn’t play it perfectly,” he said angrily.“But I can practice.I have several months to get this piece perfect.What do you mean you don’t think I can pull it off?”

“Yura, show me your fingers,” Yakov said, changing the subject.

Yuri’s anger took a backseat to his surprise.“What?”

Yakov held out a hand.“Show me your fingers.”

Yuri looked down at his feet, but shifted his violin into his right hand and showed Yakov the fingertips on his left hand.They weren’t bleeding actively, as they had been last night, but they were red and raw.Yuri had had to put a small bandage on his middle finger, which was the worst since it was the finger he favored for shifting positions.

Yakov sighed heavily.“Don’t think I don’t recognize the signs of over-practicing when I see them, Yuri,” he said.“How many hours?”

Yuri grit his teeth, but he couldn’t lie.“Close to seven.Counting warm-up.”

Yakov massaged his brow.“Yuri, practicing is good to a point, but once you pass that point… there’s such a thing as playing too much.”

Yuri glared at him.“No, there’s not.I need to practice if I’m going to win.”

Yakov crossed his arms over his chest.“You’re not going to win if your wear your fingers to stubs,” he said.“Yuri, there is a balance you must find.While it’s important to practice, you can’t go for so long that it negatively impacts your performance.”

"My performance was _fine_ ,” Yuri all but snarled.

Yakov shook his head.“You were sloppy,” he corrected.“Part of it is still being largely unfamiliar with the piece, which will fade in time.But your arm is clearly tired, based on how much lower it is than it should be, I expect your back hurts, and I can see you wince every time you use your second finger from across the room.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Yuri said stubbornly.“My arm will get stronger with more practice.My fingers will heal into stronger calluses than before, as long as I ignore it.I’m fine.”

“I already have one incapacitated prodigy who injured himself because he was too stubborn to get help when he needed it,” Yakov said acidly.“I don’t need two.”

Yuri flinched.

Yakov sighed and rubbed his temples again.He seemed like he was getting a headache.“Go home, Yura,” he said.“Take the day off from practicing to let your fingers heal a little.”Yuri opened his mouth furiously, ready to protest, but Yakov held up a hand.“That’s not a request, or something to be debated, Yuri,” he said with a hint of steel in his voice.“Don’t think I won’t call your grandfather and ask him to keep an eye on you.”

Yuri clenched his jaw, but stuffed his music back into his folder and mechanically cleaned and put away his violin.He didn’t care if Yakov yelled at or scolded _him,_ but he absolutely refused to worry his grandfather.

“I know you think I’m your enemy, Yura,” Yakov said in a softer tone than he normally used.“But I care more about your wellbeing than your future victories.”Yuri picked up his case, snatched his music off the stand, and walked to the door.

Just before he left, he turned, chin down and green eyes mostly hidden behind his curtain of hair.“You should care more about helping me win,” he said softly and then left, letting the door click shut behind him.

***

“Yuuri, are you sure about this?” Phichit asked worriedly, leaning an elbow on his friend’s shoulder like an armrest.

Yuuri sighed, but knew better than to shrug Phichit off.The Thai man was well-known for his ability to get revenge with stupid but somehow effective pranks.Yuuri had found it amusing, until he had woken up one day during his senior year of college to find the tips of his hair bleached and dyed green.Celestino hadn’t been amused. Phichit had been very much amused, and satisfied with his revenge after Yuuri had pretended not to know him in a cafe.Yuuri had learned, since then, that it was never a good idea to ignore Phichit Chulanont, no matter how much homework he had or how many finals he desperately needed to study for.

“I’m sure,” Yuuri mumbled in reply to his friend’s question.

Phichit hummed, unconvinced.“Because if you’re not, we can just send him right back to Russia,” he said.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.“You know, when we got coffee, Viktor said he didn’t think you liked him.I’m starting to believe him.”

Phichit shrugged noncommittally.“I suppose I don’t _dislike_ him,” he said.“I just think he was patronizing you, saying he was going to teach you and expecting you to fall at his feet.It seems arrogant.”

Yuuri shrugged, inadvertently dislodging Phichit’s arm.“He _is_ a better musician than I am,” he pointed out.

Phichit sighed heavily.“I’m not drunk enough for this," he muttered.

Yuuri glanced at him, appalled.“It’s ten in the morning,” he said incredulously.“And you’re not legally allowed to drink in the U.S.”

“What time is his flight supposed to come in?” Phichit asked, changing the subject.

“It was supposed to land at nine thirty, but he has to go through customs,” Yuuri answered.

“Why did we get here at nine, then?” Phichit asked, sounding irritated.

“In case it came in early…?” Yuuri offered.

Phichit laughed and shook his head, plopping into an uncomfortable plastic seat by the wall.He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Instagram.Yuuri leaned up against the wall next to him, arms crossed and deep in thought.

After he, Phichit, and Celestino had gotten back to the United States, almost three weeks ago, Yuuri had given Viktor a call that ended up being close to four hours long.In that time, they decided that since Yuuri and Phichit still split rent on their apartment as Phichit was in college for another two years, it would be easiest for Viktor to come live in America for the eight or so months until the ICC Finals.Yuuri and Phichit had already managed to rent an apartment for Viktor in the same building as them, and the Russian man had shipped some of his belongings from Russia.The only thing left was to pick the musician up at the airport and take him to where he would be staying for the next several months.

Yuuri had been up since six that morning, unable to sleep.What if Viktor hated America?What if he realized teaching Yuuri wasn’t worth it, and he had wasted his time and money to move halfway across the world?What if-

“Hey,” Phichit said, reaching out and grabbing Yuuri’s forearm.“Deep breath.”

Yuuri took a shuddering breath, and then whispered, “What if he’s wasting his time, Phichit?What do I do?”

“He’s not wasting his time,” Phichit said patiently.“I know that, he knows that, I bet Yuri Plisetsky knows that.The only one who doesn’t seem to realize is you.Just have a little faith in yourself, OK?”

Yuuri exhaled shakily.“I can try.”

Phichit smiled up at him.“Good.”His smile widened, and he added, “Besides, I think Viktor is almost here.He posted a selfie from the baggage claim just a minute ago.”

Yuuri glanced at him in surprise.“You follow him?”

Phichit smirked.“I follow everyone, even you, and you never post anything.”

Yuuri smiled sheepishly.“Yeah, well-”

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri glanced up to see an excited Viktor Nikiforov waving at them and beaming as he strode across the room, cart piled with suitcases in one hand and a dog on a leash in the other.Yuuri smiled shyly, waving back.

Phichit stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and smiled amiably.“Welcome to the States, Viktor,” he said once the Russian man was in earshot.

Viktor beamed at him.“Thank you!” he exclaimed.“Of course, I have been to America before for performances, but I have never stayed longer than a week or two.”

He came to a stop in front them, and Yuuri smiled.“It’s nice to see you again,” he said, and then knelt to be face to face with Viktor’s dog.He let her sniff his hand, and then ran a hand through her soft fur.“Hello,” he said in soft Japanese.“You look just like my dog did.”

“Her name is Makkachin,” Viktor said proudly.

Yuuri smiled, and Makkachin almost seemed to smile back.“It’s lovely to meet you, Makkachin,” Yuuri said, and then straightened.“Do you need help?” he asked tentatively.

Viktor’s smile brightened.“That would be nice, yes,” he admitted, and then nodded to the car behind him.“Do you think you could get my violin?”

Yuuri blinked in shock, and then fumbled to follow Viktor’s directions, hands shaking so badly he was afraid he was going to drop the instrument.Luckily, Viktor didn’t seem to notice.

"We called a car service,” Phichit told him, taking one of the suitcases without being asked.“It should be here any minute.”He jumped a little, and then pulled out his phone and grinned.“They just texted me, our car is here.Come on.”

Yuuri and Viktor followed Phichit through the airport, Yuuri trying desperately not to freak out.He knew Viktor had two violins.One was made by a luthier Yuuri hadn’t heard of, and was “reasonably priced” for a professional’s instrument.The other was a Stradivarius. But surely Viktor wouldn’t have brought his Stradivarius on a plane, and then entrusted it to _Yuuri_.Right?

He took a deep breath of cool air as they stepped out of the airport and onto the street, and immediately started coughing.Even after living in New York City for five years, he still wasn’t used to the pervasive scent of car exhaust and cigarette smoke, so different from Hasetsu.God, he could barely remember the smell of his family’s onsen, or cherry blossoms in the spring.

“Yuuri!” Viktor exclaimed excitedly, pulling him from his thoughts.“What part of the city do you live in?”He smiled at Yuuri, eyes bright and excited.

Yuuri ducked his head.“Our apartment is in Manhattan, the Lower East Side,” he said softly.“We’re in Queens right now.It might take us up to an hour to get there, depending on the traffic.”

Viktor’s smile didn’t flicker.“That will give me an opportunity to see more of the city,” he said cheerfully.

Phichit beckoned them over to a waiting car, talked to the driver for a moment, and opened the trunk.“Put what you want in there,” he said.He gave Yuuri what could have been a wink, and added, “I’m sitting up front.The driver happens to be Thai, I’d like to trade stories.You and Viktor can sit in the back, Yuuri.”

Yuuri blanched, but Viktor grinned.“Great!” he exclaimed, heaving one of his suitcases into the trunk.“Can Makka sit with us too?”

Phichit shrugged, giving Viktor the other suitcase to pack.“I mean, yeah, it would be better than the trunk,” he replied.

Viktor looked absolutely scandalized.“I would never!” he exclaimed.He put a dog carrier in the trunk and then slammed the door closed before opening one of the back doors in the car.He chirped out a command in Russian, and Makkachin jumped in the car with only a moment of hesitation.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri hissed to Phichit as the Thai man opened the door to the passenger’s seat.

Phichit just grinned at him.“Let’s call it an experiment,” he replied.

Yuuri blinked, and then scowled at him.“I hate you.”

Phichit shook his head.“No you don’t, you love me,” he said, and then got in the car.

“Yuuri, come on!” Viktor exclaimed, grabbing Yuuri's hand and pulling him into the car.Yuuri yelped a little, but sat down next to Viktor.The Russian man took a moment longer than he had to in letting go of Yuuri’s hand, and then leaned back in his seat.

“Do you, um… Do you want your violin?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor waved a hand, unconcerned.“Just put it somewhere that it won’t move around,” he said.Yuuri carefully put the violin on the floor of the car and then buckled his seat belt as the car pulled away from the curb.Yuuri stared studiously at the back of Phichit’s head in front of him as his friend chatted in Thai to the driver, until Viktor poked his arm.

“You mentioned on the phone that Phichit is still in university,” he said with a friendly smile, resting one hand on Makkachin’s head where she sat basically on top of his feet.“Have you graduated already?”

Yuuri nodded.“I graduated last year,” he replied.

Viktor smiled fondly.“I remember when I was in university,” he said.

Yuuri only half-listened as Viktor chattered on about his college days, watching the buildings of New York City slide by on either side of the car.At one point Makkachin leaned her head on his knee, and Yuuri absently stroked his fingers through her fur as he listened to Viktor talk and trying not to focus on how attractive he found the Russian accent.  

Because of the traffic, they didn’t get back to Phichit and Yuuri’s apartment building for an hour.Viktor was still talking to Yuuri when they pulled up in front of the building, but trailed off as the car came to a stop.Yuuri swallowed nervously.He and Phichit lived in a relatively nice neighborhood, for the rent they were able to afford, but Viktor was a world-class violinist.He probably lived in a mansion or something.Their apartment building was nothing special in comparison.

Viktor got out of the car with a smile, Makkachin on his heels.“Is this is, Yuuri?” he asked.

Yuuri scrambled out of the car after him and answered.“Yeah.You’re on the third floor, we’re on the fourth.”

Viktor tapped his lips, thinking.After a moment, he beamed at Yuuri.“This will do perfectly,” he said, and then went and opened the trunk to get his bags, leaving Yuuri blinking and confused on the sidewalk.Phichit, who had been talking to the driver through the window, clapped Yuuri on the shoulder as he went to help Viktor with his bags.Yuuri blinked again, and then grabbed Viktor’s violin and took Makkachin’s carrier out of Phichit ’s hand so he could pay the driver.

The three musicians stood on the curb after the car drove away, surrounded by Viktor’s bags, and stared up at the apartment building for a moment.

“There is an elevator, right?” Viktor asked, sounding slightly apprehensive.

“Of course,” Phichit said with a laugh, and then smiled at Viktor and tugged Yuuri’s hand.“Come on.It’s cold, I want to go inside.”

“It’s not even that cold,” Yuuri mumbled, but let Phichit pull him into the warm lobby of their apartment building, Viktor trailing behind and looking around with interest.They crossed to the elevator and waited for it to arrive, standing in awkward silence.

Yuuri suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable.Viktor Nikiforov, the most talented violinist Russia had to offer, world famous and probably reasonably wealthy, was standing in his apartment building and staring at an old piece of gum stuck to the wall next to the elevator.What the hell had Yuuri been _thinking?_ He must be stupid, to think that this would ever work.Viktor was doing a good job of hiding his disgust, at least for now, but Yuuri was certain the Russian man was already regretting his decision to come to America and fail to help a subpar violist win the world’s most prestigious musical competition.

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut.He was insane.This was such a bad idea.

“Hey,” Phichit whispered, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri opened his eyes to see that the elevator had arrived without his noticing and Viktor was already waiting inside, holding the door and watching Yuuri and Phichit with his head slightly cocked.“You need a moment?” Phichit murmured.

Yuuri blinked, and then mumbled, “No.Sorry.”He ducked past Phichit and stood in the elevator next to Viktor, hoping he looked at least semi-normal.Viktor gave him an odd, worried look, but didn’t say anything.

Phichit squeezed into the elevator after Yuuri and jammed the button for the third floor with his thumb.They rode up in uncomfortable silence, Yuuri wincing every time the elevator creaked, and then piled out into the hallway when they reached Viktor’s floor.

“Come on,” Phichit said, beckoning them over.“You’re 314.I have your key.”He led them to the correct apartment and paused in front of it, digging around in his pocket before pulling out a tarnished metal key and unlocking the door.“Some of the stuff you’ve shipped from Russia already arrived,” Phichit said as he ushered them into the apartment, gesturing to a stack of boxes.“Yuuri and I brought them in for you.The rest should arrive some time next week.”

Viktor smiled.“Thank you.”

Phichit fumbled for the light switch, and then turned on the lights in the apartment.Yuuri winced.The apartment was furnished, to some extent- a couch in the living room, oven, stove, table, and sink in the kitchen, bed in the bedroom- but the rest of the small living space was bare and slightly shabby.

“I love it,” Viktor said, eyes shining.“It reminds me of my apartment back in St. Petersburg.”

He glanced excitedly at Phichit.“Can I look around?”

Phichit nodded, smiling genuinely.It seemed like he had decided that Viktor wasn’t so bad.“Go for it,” he said.Viktor bounded off down the short hallway to look at the bedroom, dragging a suitcase behind him with Makkachin at his heels.

Yuuri turned to Phichit.“Why are you acting so weird?” he hissed.

Phichit grinned at him.“Yuuri, I’m 95% sure he has a crush on you,” he stage whispered.

Yuuri blanched.“Wait, what?”

Phichit’s grin widened.“I mean, I still think he’s a little arrogant, but I also think he’s awkward about talking to you because he likes you.”

Yuuri spluttered.

Phichit raised his hands.“Just hear me out,” he said.“When we were in the bar, he mostly talked to you.And didn’t you say he gave you a hug when you were done with coffee the next day?Also, in the airport, he only called out to you and looked really happy to see you.And you didn’t see his expression when you were talking to his dog.Point is, Yuuri, even if he doesn’t know it yet, I think Viktor likes you.And you like him, based on the million Viktor Nikiforov posters you have in your room, so therefore I have taken it upon myself to get you two together.”

Yuuri covered his face with his hands.“You’re being stupid,” he mumbled, voice muffled.

Phichit just made an unconvinced noise, but before he could say anything Viktor called out, “Yuuri!Can you come here?”

“Your prince calls,” Phichit snickered, and dragged Yuuri down the hall to the bedroom.

Viktor stood with his back to them, hands on his hips.Makkachin had already settled herself on the bed, curled up next to Viktor’s open suitcase.Viktor turned when they came in and gave them a dazzling smile.“Yuuri, look what I found before leaving Russia,” he said, and then pulled a rolled up tube of paper and unfurled it with a flourish. Phichit burst out laughing as Yuuri stared in horror, eyes wide and face flushed.

The poster Viktor had brought with him was of Yuuri, from a performance a year or two ago.The background was mostly dark, with a single spotlight focused on the boards of a stage.Yuuri stood in the center of the circle of light, hair gelled back, decked out in a tuxedo, viola already raised.His eyes were closed, and the expression on his face was peaceful and relaxed.At the bottom of the poster was his name in English print, and then more words in Cyrillic characters.

“Wh-where did you get that?” Yuuri choked. Phichit doubled over laughing.

Viktor smiled down at the poster.“I ordered it online,” he said.“There are many, but this is the one I liked the best.”He rummaged around in his suitcase, somehow managed to find a thumbtack, and then pinned the poster above his bed before stepping back and smiling in satisfaction.“Perfect,” he declared happily.His expression changed as a thought seemed to occur to him.“Do you think they have posters of me?”

Yuuri just stared at him.Phichit collapsed to the ground with a wheeze, laughing too hard to stand.Viktor gave him a concerned look.“Is he alright?”

Yuuri sighed heavily.“He’s being Phichit,” he replied, and then covered his face with his hands.“Viktor, why would you _get_ something like that?”

Viktor blinked, looking surprised.“You don’t like my poster?” he asked, sounding disappointed.Yuuri made a squeaking sound, unable to figure out how he was supposed to respond.Viktor scratched his head.“I suppose I could take it down, if it really makes you that uncomfortable,” he mused, sounding almost sad at the notion.

“No… No, d-don’t!”Phichit gasped.He covered his mouth with his hands, trying to calm himself down, and then managed to say through his snickers, “I’m going… to get lunch.Have… fun.”He left, still giggling and muttering things to himself under his breath.Yuuri looked helplessly at Viktor.

The Russian frowned at the poster.“Is it really that bad?” he asked, blue eyes wide.

Yuuri crumbled.“No, it’s fine,” he promised.I was… just surprised.”Yuuri tangled his fingers in his hair for a moment and then changed the subject.“Do you want help unpacking?”

Viktor lit up.“Are you sure you have the time?” he said hopefully.

Yuuri smiled.“Of course,” he said.“You’ve just arrived in a foreign country.Phichit and I were planning from the beginning to take the day off.”

Viktor threw his arms around Yuuri, oblivious to the affect he had on the violist.“Thank you, Yuuri!” he cried.

Yuuri swallowed hard, awkwardly patted Viktor on the back, and then tried to disentangle himself.He definitely didn’t notice that the silvery hair brushing against his cheek was very soft, or that Viktor smelled like coffee under the scent of stale airplane air, or that his hug was warm and felt safe.Viktor let go, and smiled wordlessly at Yuuri, as if waiting for something.

Yuuri cleared his throat, looked down, and then muttered, “Let’s start, shall we?”

Viktor’s smile flickered the tiniest bit before returning full-force.  "Of course.”

He and Yuuri started unpacking Viktor’s suitcase as Makkachin watched with half-lidded eyes, until Viktor suddenly asked out of nowhere, “Are you and Phichit a couple?”

Yuuri coughed, choking on his spit.“Wait, what?”

Viktor turned to him, waiting patiently.“Are you dating Phichit?”

“No,” Yuuri exclaimed.“No.No, I’m not dating Phichit.We’re just friends.I don’t even know if he likes men.”

“Hm,” Viktor said thoughtfully, putting a stack of shirts on the bed and grabbing a few hangers from the closet.“Do _you_ like men?”

Yuuri choked again, but Viktor didn’t even seem to notice.“I do,” he said happily.“Yuri likes to say that I am gayer than a rainbow.”

Of course, Phichit chose that exact moment to walk into the room holding a bag of sandwiches, and immediately burst out laughing again.“Yuuri, your face is so red,” he exclaimed.

Viktor gave Yuuri a worried look.“Are you alright?” he asked.

Yuuri covered his burning cheeks with his hands.“I… I’m fine,” he said, and then snatched the food from Phichit’s hands and left the room before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

Phichit followed him as Viktor put the last few shirts in his pile away.The Thai man slung an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.“See?” he whispered in Yuuri’s ear.“He definitely has a crush on you.After careful consideration, I’ve decided that I ship it.”

“I thought you didn’t like Viktor,” Yuuri grumbled, setting the sandwiches down on the kitchen table.

Phichit shrugged.“He’s fine,” he said.“I mean, he’s more your type than mine, you know?And that stunt with the poster definitely makes up for his cluelessness.”He sobered a little.“Yuuri, I just want you to be happy,” he said.“As long as I’ve known you, you haven’t dated anyone.I know you have friends besides me, but you don’t go out that much.I know you have your reasons, but… I worry about you sometimes.I think it would be good for you to go out there, see some people, get yourself a hot Russian boyfriend.”

Yuuri ducked his chin, letting his bangs hang in his eyes.“It’s never going to happen, Phichit, even if I wanted it to,” he said in a low voice.“He’s Viktor Nikiforov.I’m _me._ People like me don’t get with their celebrity crushes, it just doesn't happen.Give it up, OK?”

Phichit pursed his lips, but sighed.“Fine,” he muttered.“But this will be a great story to tell at the wedding.”

Yuuri elbowed him hard in the ribs, and Phichit staggered back, bumping into Viktor as he came into the kitchen.Viktor, who seemed strangely used to the other’s antics by now, just put a steadying hand on Phichit’s elbow and then sat down at the table next to Yuuri.

“Which one is mine?” he asked.Yuuri handed him a sandwich, and then started on his own.

They ate lunch in relative silence.Yuuri was still fairly sure he was blushing from the poster incident, Viktor seemed strangely thoughtful, and Phichit was watching Yuuri and Viktor with hawk eyes.

When they were finished eating, they set about unpacking Viktor’s belongings with only a few casual conversations between them.Yuuri focused on the task at hand, rather than the fact that he was literally helping his idol unpack his underwear.Staying disconnected was the only way to keep a calm head.

They had been working for several hours before most of Viktor’s belongings were unpacked.When they had decided they were done for the day, well past dinner time, Yuuri flopped down on the couch.

“I’m so tired of boxes,” he groaned.Viktor laughed, sitting down next to him, close enough that their knees bumped together.Yuuri tried not to jump.

“I have a great idea,” Phichit said.“Let’s order in and watch shitty movies.”

“Sounds good to me,” Viktor agreed, nodding.He shifted a little on the couch, and Yuuri _definitely_ didn’t have a minor internal meltdown when their thighs pressed together.“Would you like to stay here?”

“Your TV is better than ours,” Phichit said, eyeing Viktor’s small flatscreen approvingly."Mine and Yuuri’s still has bunny ears.”Viktor laughed.

“I’m going to call for Thai,” Phichit declared as Viktor turned on the TV and started surfing channels.He grabbed his phone and left the room.

Yuuri thought he heard the shutter of a camera click, but ignored it as he leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, so he missed Viktor’s gentle smile in his direction before the Russian leaned his head back as well and relaxed as the bluish light from the TV flickered over them.They were both was asleep in five minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things I'd like to address:
> 
>  ~~After doing some planning for where I'm going in this story, this work is projected to be 16-20 chapters, and based on the chapter length could be anywhere from 65,000 words to 90,000 words.~~ I WAS SO YOUNG
> 
> Obviously, since this is a musician AU, there's a lot of music mentioned. I have specific pieces in mind for the music I mention, and have provided links. I own nothing, all credits to the recorders, musicians, and composers.
> 
> That's pretty much it. If you've made it this far, congratulations! The next chapter should be out on the 10th of August. Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a marvelous day, dear reader!


	5. History Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri finds a piece to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, plot! And also copious amounts of fluff, but, well... Yeah.
> 
> Edit: Sorry if there were any glitches, for whatever reason the archive didn't want to save this chapter, but oh well
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Viktor was disoriented for a moment when he woke up for the first time in his new apartment in New York City.He blinked for a moment, disoriented, before remembered where he was, focused on the poster tacked above his bed, and grinned.That poster was  _definitely_  one of his new favorite things.

Viktor closed his eyes and snuggled back into his pillow.He was still tired, more tired than he had expected to be.Normally jet lag didn’t affect him like it affected most people, but he also didn’t normally stay up watching crappy movies with his friends.His friends… Viktor had decided that Yuuri and Phichit were well on their way to becoming his good friends, if they weren’t there already.

He and Yuuri had fallen asleep on the couch last night, and Phichit had let them sleep until the food had come.Over dinner they had talked about some logistics, and decided that Yuuri would come to Viktor’s apartment the next morning for his first… something.Viktor was reluctant to call it a lesson, even though that was the world Yuuri had used, for fear of being demeaning.

After eating, Yuuri had fallen asleep again in the middle of some movie in the Sy-Fy channel, but Viktor and Phichit had stayed awake and had a quiet conversation.Viktor had learned that he and the Thai man had more in common than they had expected, and Phichit had told him a lot about being a college student in America, which was more similar to being a college student in Russia than Viktor had expected.Phichit had taken a sleepy (adorable) Yuuri around midnight, leaving Viktor to collapse into bed and pass out.

Viktor smiled sleepily, pulling his blankets closer around himself.He would have to adjust the heating in his apartment later, it was just a bit too cold for the weather.Although his eyes were closed, Viktor heard as Makkachin nudged open the door to his room and trotted in, tags jingling.She whined, and then sniffed at his face.

“Not now, Makka, let me sleep,” Viktor slurred, half in Russian and half in English.Makkachin pawed at his shoulder, dislodging the blanket.Viktor opened his eyes and blinked blearily at her.“Fine,” he grumbled.“I’ll feed you.”

He sat up in bed and swung his legs over the edge, hissing when his feet came in contact with the cold wooden floor.He would need a carpet.Viktor staggered down the hall with Makkachin trotting behind him, but when he tried to turn into the kitchen she nudged him towards the front door instead.“Makka, I’m not taking you for a walk,” Viktor said.Makkachin just butted her head against his leg, pushing him in the direction of the entrance.Viktor sighed, and then caught sight of the clock hung on the wall as he turned.10:04.Shit.

Viktor rubbed at his eyes as he walked quickly to the door and threw it open.Yuuri was standing outside, viola case in hand, turned like he was just about to leave, but he faced Viktor again.

“I’m sorry, Viktor, I can come back later if you-”He cut off abruptly as his eyes went wide, slowly flushing.

“Sorry, Yuuri,” Viktor said, leaning against the doorframe and running his fingers through his greasy hair.“I overslept a bit.Would you like to come in?”

Yuuri’s eyes darted between Viktor’s face and his chest before the Japanese man looked away with red cheeks.Viktor realized that he had, as usual, worn only a pair of pants to bed, and had neglected to grab a shirt before answering the door.He took a deep breath and smiled at Yuuri, trying to push away his embarrassment.

“I’m sure you can tell I’m a little discombobulated,” he said.“Would you like to come in and set up?I need to take a quick shower.”

Yuuri blinked, still not looking at Viktor.“I c-can come back,” he stammered.“I should have realized you’d be jet lagged.S-sorry.”

Viktor placed a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, and the younger man tensed a little.“Yuuri, it’s fine,” he promised, and gently steered the violist into his apartment.“It’s my own fault for not setting an alarm."He closed the front door, and smiled as Makkachin nuzzled up against Yuuri’s leg.“I’ll be back in a few minutes, alright?” he said.“Make yourself at home.”

Yuuri cleared his throat nervously, but nodded.“Where should I go?” he asked in a soft voice.

Viktor shrugged.“Doesn’t matter.”He flashed Yuuri a smile and then wandered back to his bedroom to collect a clean change of clothes.

After what was probably the quickest shower of his life, Viktor stepped out of the bathroom to hear the slow, lazy notes of a B flat major scale climbing higher and higher before peaking and falling again.He smiled and pulled on a t shirt before returning to the living room, where Yuuri stood with his eyes closed as he coaxed out note after note from his instrument.Viktor waited until Yuuri was done with the scale before quietly clearing his throat.

Yuuri jumped and spun around, eyes landing on Viktor standing in the doorway.“Sorry,” he muttered, blushing and looking down.“I was warming up.”

Viktor gave Yuuri a warm smile.“You don’t have to apologize for playing, Yuuri,” he said gently.“I don’t know if you know this about me, but I do enjoy listening to music.”

That got a small, sheepish laugh, and warm victory flooded Viktor’s chest.“That’s a good point.”

Viktor settled himself on the arm of the couch, facing Yuuri.“Can you play something for me?” he asked.“I’d like to get an idea of where you are.”

Yuuri blinked.“But you’ve already-I mean, didn’t you see my concert in Moscow?”

Viktor nodded.“I did,” he agreed.“And it was lovely.But hearing you from the audience when you’re onstage is different from hearing you from three feet away.”

Yuuri swallowed nervously.“What should I play?” he asked, voice trembling slightly.

Viktor smiled encouragingly.“Whatever you want.”

Yuuri took a deep breath, looked down at his viola for a moment, and then nodded.“Alright.”He lifted his viola to his shoulder.Viktor noticed that his hands were shaking.

Yuuri paused for a moment with his viola in position, took a deep breath, and then launched into the Casadesus [piece](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fMReZ2HQgAI) he had played at his concert in Moscow.

Viktor listened in silence, mindlessly picking at the brace on his wrist, as the music flowed around them.His conclusion was that Yuuri was good.Very good, in fact.But he had already known that, already heard this piece.And for whatever reason, Viktor was certain that Yuuri had played it better on stage in front of an audience of hundreds than in Viktor’s shabby living room in front of one person.Viktor counted at least a dozen mistakes- a rushed run, several missed notes, hitches and pauses and rests where there shouldn’t have been any- and every time that happened Yuuri would flinch and his posture would become rigid for a moment before he relaxed into the rhythm of the notes again.

When he was done Yuuri stood frozen for a moment before he put his viola into rest position and hung his head.“I’m sorry,” he murmured, tugging anxiously at the collar of his shirt.“That wasn’t very good.”

Viktor shook his head.“No, Yuuri, it was very good,” he said honestly, and then added, “But you seem nervous.Is something on your mind?”

Yuuri’s eyes shot up to meet his. “N-no,” he stuttered, cheeks flooding with color.

Viktor sighed, resting his hands in his lap.“Please, Yuuri, if something is bothering you, you can talk to me.I’m going to be seeing a lot of you these next few months, after all, if I'm going to help you win the ICC.A relationship like this should be built on trust and friendship.” _Just like a real romantic relationship_ , Viktor’s thought added traitorously, but luckily he kept that notion to himself.

Yuuri swallowed.“I’m fine,” he said in a strangled voice.“Just… tired.”

Viktor eyed Yuuri.He knew that whatever Yuuri’s problem was, it wasn’t tiredness, but pushing him wouldn’t help at all, it would just make Yuuri retreat further into himself.Instead, Viktor said, “How does that piece make you feel?”

Yuuri blinked.“What?”

“What emotions do you feel when you’re playing that piece,” Viktor asked again.

Yuuri frowned.“I don’t know… a little intense, I guess, but nothing too strong.”

“You play with emotion,” Viktor said.“But this performance felt mechanical.Like you were more focused on getting the technical elements perfect rather than conveying the emotions of the piece.And then you lost concentration when you made mistakes, too caught up in having a flawless technical performance to let the mistakes bleed away in the overall feel of the music.”

Yuuri sighed.“I suppose that’s true,” he admitted in a low voice.“I’m… I’m just so desperate to prove that I’m worthy of you, Viktor!I don’t want you to think you’re wasting your time with me.”

Viktor blinked.Was that what Yuuri thought, that he was a waste of time?Didn’t he realize how talented he was, how he made Viktor’s heart swell when he listened to him play at his full potential?“Yuuri,” Viktor said softly.“I already know I’m not wasting my time with you.But if you focus only on technical performance and lose your ability to tell an emotional story with your music, I’m not sure you can win.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down.

Viktor pressed his lips together.That wasn’t what he had meant at all.He didn’t want to hurt Yuuri’s feelings, only make him realize that he already had the skills he needed to win, if he only let them have free reign in his music.

Viktor got to his feet, and carefully took the viola and bow out of Yuuri’s hands, setting them on the floor.Yuuri looked up in surprise, and Viktor gently cupped the other man’s face in his hands, forcing their eyes to meet.“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered.“I know you have what it takes to win.I know it.The music is inside you, you just need to let it out.”

Yuuri stared at him, deep brown eyes wide.Viktor suddenly realized that their faces were less than an inch apart as Viktor cupped Yuuri’s cheeks in his palms, the tips of Yuuri’s hair tickling his fingers, so close that he could feel Yuuri’s quick, warm breaths on his chin.Viktor couldn’t help himself as his eyes darted down to Yuuri’s lips before returning to his eyes.For the first time, Viktor noticed that Yuuri had a few flecks of gold in his eyes that made them shine beautifully in the right light.He had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life, but suddenly Yuuri was stepping away, eyes wide and panicked, face red.

“I… I’ll play something else,” he stammered, bending over to pick up his instrument.Viktor gave an almost imperceptible sigh of disappointment, both in himself and in Yuuri, but nodded.

He settled himself on the arm of the couch again, and then said, “Play something different.Play a piece that really speaks to you.It doesn’t matter what it is.”

Yuuri nodded, face still a little flushed, and chewed on his lip.“I can think of something, but it’s not a viola piece,” he said.

Viktor shrugged.“Does it speak to you?”

Yuuri nodded.“It’s one of the first string pieces I heard,” he said.“I had already fallen in love with the viola by then, but this piece made me want to play as a soloist.”He lifted his viola to his chin, sighed, relaxed, and then [played](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4tOI_Zzf2Y) the opening bars to the prelude of Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1.

Viktor’s lips curled into a small smile.Yuuri’s performance was much better this time.He played note after note with an ease clearly gained from years of practice, which let him focus more on the emotion of the music.

Viktor closed his eyes, and let the music wash over him.Yuuri played each set of slurs with unnerving accuracy, keeping perfect time while also letting the right notes ring out above the others, creating a secondary rhythm.He applied vibrato in all the right places, gently teasing at times and dramatically trembling in others, hinting both at the serene beauty and almost frantic pace the piece could express.Viktor had heard the piece played on a cello, of course, many times, and even on a violin once or twice, but this was the first time he had heard it on a viola.Maybe Viktor was biased, but he liked it best on viola.The rich, woody sound of the instrument, lighter and airier than a cello but deeper than a violin, made the prelude sound almost human, like an angel was gently humming the melody accompanied by an instrument.

Yuuri finished the piece skillfully, fingers sliding higher and higher up the fingerboard as he wove the last few bars together before ending on the last, trembling chord.Viktor opened his eyes as the last notes faded away, a little surprised to find that his eyes were stinging with moisture.

He blinked, and then whispered, “Yuuri, that was beautiful.”

Yuuri slowly lowered his viola.“It wasn’t bad?” he said tentatively.“I’ve played it better.”

Viktor jumped his his feet, and before he could stop himself swept Yuuri into a hug.“It was gorgeous,” he whispered in Yuuri’s ear.“I don’t know how you could have played it better.”

Yuuri swallowed, throat next to Viktor’s ear, and awkwardly patted Viktor on the shoulder.Viktor winced as the frog of Yuuri’s bow dug into his shoulder and stepped away, letting Yuuri put his instrument down.“ _That_  is the emotion you need,” Viktor said firmly, meeting Yuuri’s eyes.“ _That_  is the emotion I knew you had. _That_  is the emotion that will help you win."

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Really?”

Viktor nodded vehemently.“It’s too bad you can't play that piece, you would definitely win,” he said sincerely.

Yuuri chuckled.“It doesn’t have the technical difficulty of a piece for the ICC,” he replied.“Besides, I have to play a concerto written for viola, not a suite written for cello and arranged for viola.”

Viktor shrugged smiling.“That’s true,” he admitted, and then his smile grew slightly mischievous.“Although now that I know you can play like that, I hope you realize I’m going to have you do it all the time.”

Yuuri swallowed.“I don’t know if I can,” he said honestly.“I can only play with a lot of emotion if a piece speaks to me.”

V iktor nodded.“I know how you feel,” he said.“Yakov wanted me to play this awful piece once, for a concert.It was technically difficult, but made me feel terrible playing it.They ended up having to find a replacement, I just couldn’t do it.”

Yuuri smiled.

“Do you know what you want to play for your ICC piece yet?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri’s smile disappeared.“I’m not sure,” he admitted.“I’ve looked through some music since we agreed I would try out, but I haven’t found anything that would really work.You’d be surprised how many pieces I play in concerts that are arranged for the viola rather than written for it.Of course, I love playing music written for viola originally, but there’s only so much out there.”

Viktor blinked.“Have you ever played arrangements of violin pieces?” he asked.

Yuuri tilted his head.“Um… yeah.Sure.”

“I’ll be right back,” Viktor said, and walked down the hall to his bedroom, leaving a very confused Yuuri behind.He returned a moment later, violin case in hand, and sat down on the couch to unpack it.

“Viktor, I thought you weren’t allowed to play,” Yuuri said, frowning, as Viktor tuned his violin.

The Russian man longingly ran his fingers over the strings, but said, “I know that.I’m not going to play it, you are.”

Yuuri choked.“Wait, what?” he rasped.

Viktor tightened the bow and gave it a quick sweep of rosin before holding out both the bow and the violin to Yuuri.“Can you play something for me?” he asked.

Yuuri stared at him.“Why?” he asked.“Viktor, I play the viola.What’s the use of me playing your violin?”

Viktor gestured impatiently.“I want to see how versatile you are with instruments,” he said, making something up on the spot.Viktor had absolutely no idea why, but when he had heard that Yuuri had played violin pieces before he desperately wanted to hear them.On  _his_  violin, specifically.

Yuuri chewed his lip.“I’ve only played the violin a few times,” he started.

“Just satisfy my curiosity?” Viktor asked, giving Yuuri his best puppy dog eyes.

Yuuri sighed, but set down the viola and took the violin.“Alright, fine.”He caught Viktor’s eye, and smiled nervously.“I hope this isn’t your way to convert me to the violin,” he joked.

Viktor laughed.“No, the viola suits you better,” he said.

Yuuri lifted Viktor’s violin to his shoulder, hesitated, and then started to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRxofEmo3HA) the violin part to Spring, from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.He was more tentative this time, unsure and a little slow, but Viktor appreciated the musicality that Yuuri had even on a strange instrument.

Yuuri played for another few minutes before stopping and admitting, “That’s all I know.”

Viktor smiled.“Thank you, Yuuri.”He hesitated, and then added, “I know you play the viola, but you’re also welcome to play my violin sometimes if you want.I won’t be getting much use out of it for the next few months.Have you ever played a Stradivarius before?”

Yuuri squeaked, eyes going impossibly wide, and he held the instrument away from his body in a delicate grip, like he might break it.“This is your  _Stradivarius?_ ” he choked, holding the violin out to Viktor.

Viktor took the instrument, because Yuuri looked like he was going to pass out.“Yes,” he said, puzzled.“Didn’t you know I play one?”

Yuuri made a strangled noise, and then said, “I thought you had two violins!”

“I do,” Viktor said slowly, not seeing Yuuri’s point.“I brought this one, and left the other in Russia in Yakov’s care.I think Yuri might use it, if he’s big enough.”

Yuuri covered his face with his hands.“I can’t even believe you let me  _touch_  that, Viktor!” he whined.“I didn’t wash my hands first!”

“Have you washed your hands since eating or going to the bathroom?” Viktor asked patiently, and Yuuri nodded with wide eyes.Viktor shrugged.“Then it’s fine,” he said.“Don’t worry about it.”

“I need a drink of water,” Yuuri said faintly, and walked into the kitchen.

Viktor shrugged, and carefully packed up his violin before following Yuuri.He hoped the violist would play his instrument again.For some reason, Viktor had quite enjoyed watching Yuuri play his violin with such care and attention, even before he knew it was worth millions of dollars.Viktor found Yuuri in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter with a glass of water in his trembling hands.

“Viktor, what if i had dropped it?” Yuuri said.

“But you didn’t,” Viktor said patiently, filling his kettle with water for tea.

“But what if I  _had?”_  Yuuri insisted.

Viktor shrugged.“Then it might have broken, it might have been fine.Yuuri, there’s no use in worrying about things that didn’t happen.”

Yuuri gulped.“How can you talk so casually about something that’s probably worth more than this entire building?” he asked.

Viktor frowned.“Yuuri, an instrument is nothing without a musician to play it,” he said.“You should know that.”

Yuuri just sighed deeply.“We should get back to practicing,” he said.“I brought sheet music for a bunch of viola concertos.Should we start there?”

Viktor nodded.“We’re bound to find something,” he said optimistically.

***

Three hours later, they had found nothing.

“I don’t understand, Yuuri,” Viktor said with a sigh, leaning his chin in his hand as he set down his fourth mug of tea.“You aren’t playing with  _emotion._ ”

“I know,” Yuuri said, looking frustrated.“Trust me, I know.”He sighed, and ran a tired hand down his face.“Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” Viktor said, waving an unconcerned hand.“Why don’t we try the third piece you played again?The [Graun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbpkLAR0BgM)?”

Yuuri sighed.“I’m not a huge fan of that one,” he said, but frowned and lifted his viola to his shoulder.Just as he placed his bow on the strings, his cell phone rang, a pretty piano melody.Viktor frowned, but took another long sip of tea in lieu of commenting.

“Oh, thank God,” Yuuri breathed, putting down his instrument and answering the phone without looking at the screen.“Hello?”He paused, and then lit up.“Hey, Phichit!”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.He had asked Yuuri if he was dating Phichit (which would be unfortunate, because Viktor had decided that  _his_  goal was to date Yuuri), and while Viktor knew Yuuri wouldn’t lie to him he still wasn’t sure if there were any feelings that went beyond platonic between them.He wasn’t sure he  _wanted_  to know.

On the phone, Yuuri made a confused face, glanced at Viktor, and then said, “Yeah, I’m at his apartment.How come?”

Viktor crossed his legs and studiously watched the ceiling, pretending like he wasn’t listening avidly now that he knew theywere talking about him.

Yuuri paused, and then color flooded his cheeks.“Phichit, shut up,” he mumbled.“Shouldn’t you be in class?”Another pause, and then Yuuri blinked.“Um.Yeah, OK.”He took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker, holding it flat on his palm between Viktor and himself.“You’re on speaker,” Yuuri said.

“Hey, Viktor,” Phichit said cheerfully.“What are you and Yuuri doing?”

“We’re trying to find Yuuri an ICC piece,” Viktor replied, setting his mostly-empty mug of tea on the ground.

“ Unsuccessful, I assume?” Phichit asked, not sounding as upset as Viktor would have assumed he would, being Yuuri’s friend.

“Yes,” Viktor said suspiciously.“How did you know?”He could practically hear Phichit’s shrug and eye roll.

“Viktor, he spent the three weeks between Moscow and when you arrived frantically searching for a good piece so he could perfect it and impress you,” the Thai man said bluntly.Yuuri made a strangled whining noise and covered his face with his free hand.Viktor stifled a laugh.

“Obviously, he didn’t have any luck,” Phichit continued.“But I think I have a solution to your little problem.”

“What is it?” Yuuri blurted.

Viktor could hear the grin in Phichit’s voice as he said, “Do you think you can be at our usual cafe in ten minutes?Bring Viktor.”

“Yeah, OK,” Yuuri said.“Thanks, Phichit.”

“No problemo, my dude,” Phichit said with a laugh, and then hung up.

“Where’s this cafe?” Viktor asked, standing up and carrying his dirty mug into the kitchen.He threw away the wet tea leaves and then filled the mug with water and left it in the sink.

“It’s a few minutes away,” Yuuri replied.“I used to go there to study all the time, and when I met Phichit we started studying together.”

“How many years apart in school were you?” Viktor asked with interest.

“ Only two,” Yuuri replied.“I was young for my grade, and he was old.He’s a junior this year, I just graduated last year.”

“Congratulations,” Viktor said with a nod.

Yuuri shrugged, looking down.“It’s not anything special,” he mumbled, and then changed the subject.“Do you think I need to bring my viola?”

It was Viktor’s turn to shrug.“It couldn’t hurt,” he admitted.

Yuuri nodded, and then headed into the other room to pack up his instrument.Viktor whistled for Makkachin, and then grabbed her leash from the counter and attached it to her collar when she trotted into the kitchen.“I’m going to bring Makka, is that OK?” he called.

“I’m sure it’s fine, the cafe is pet-friendly,” Yuuri replied.He wandered back into the kitchen, viola case in hand and bundled into his coat already.He looked adorable, a thought that Viktor immediately pushed away.He had to focus.On things other than how adorable Yuuri was.Viktor had no idea why this was hitting him so hard all of the sudden.He knew before he met him that Yuuri was very attractive, and spending extended time with him in close quarters just made Viktor realized how much of an amazing person he was, increasing the attraction.Not that Viktor would act on it, at least not until he was sure Yuuri would be comfortable with it.

“Ready to go?” Yuuri said brightly, looking more cheerful now that he wasn’t pushing himself to practice pieces he didn’t enjoy playing as much.

Viktor nodded, mouth dry, and ducked his head as he passed Yuuri to hide his slight blush.He grabbed his jacket, pulled it on, and then said, “Lead the way, Yuuri.”

Yuuri gave him a small smile.“Just stay close to me,” he said as they left the apartment.“It’s easy to get lost.”

Viktor nodded, making sure Makkachin’s leash was wrapped tightly around his hand.He and Yuuri walked to the cafe down the street in companionable silence, Makkachin sniffing at everything interesting she saw while Viktor looked at the buildings around him in amazement.He had stayed in New York City before, had played at Carnegie Hall multiple times, but he hadn’t ever really walked around the city in the same way.Yuuri watched him with a soft smile, seemingly amused by Viktor’s childlike awe.

“It has a different feeling than St. Petersburg,” Viktor told him when he caught him looking.“More… electric, almost.”

Yuuri chuckled.“They call this the city that never sleeps for a reason,” he said, and then carefully put a hand on Viktor’s arm.“Over here.”

He tugged Viktor in the direction of a crosswalk, but didn’t let go of his wrist until they reached the cafe a few minutes later.When they entered the warm shop, Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief and loosened his jacket.Viktor smirked.September in New York wasn’t all that cold compared to Russia, but the chill was enough to need a coat, at least for Yuuri.

“There’s Phichit,” Viktor said, putting a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.Yuuri caught sight of his friend, sitting at a table off to the side accompanied by a pretty girl with wavy brown hair.Viktor followed Yuuri as he weaved through the tables in the cafe.Phichit and his friend stood up as they neared.

“Hey, Yuuri,” Phichit said with a welcoming smile.“Hey, Viktor.How’s it going?”

“Alright,” Yuuri shrugged, and then glanced curiously at Phichit’s friend.

“Oh, right!” Phichit exclaimed.“Yuuri, Viktor, this is Ketty, she goes to school with me.Ketty, this is Yuuri, my roommate, and Viktor, his… teacher, I guess.” 

“Nice to meet you, Ketty,” Yuuri said with a kind smile, shaking her hand after Viktor.“You were the one that composed a piece for Phichit’s exhibition concert last year, right?He was talking about it for months.”

Ketty blushed a little, and punched Phichit in the arm.“You could have warned me that he knew who I was,” she said accusingly. Yuuri raised an eyebrow, looking a little confused.

Phichit laughed.“Yuuri, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a little famous,” he said.

Ketty smiled sheepishly.“Sorry,” she said.“I know I should be used to being around talented musicians by now, but… Just, wow.I’ve heard you play at Carnegie Hall a few times.You’re really good.”

Yuuri blushed, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck, but he was smiling.“Um, thanks,” he said quietly.

Viktor absently rested a hand on Makkachin’s head as she sat by his feet.He couldn’t help but feel a little left out. _He_  was world famous.Was he obsolete without a violin in his hand?

Ketty turned her attention to him, and said, “And you’re Viktor Nikiforov, right?It’s an honor to meet you.”

Viktor glowed.“It’s lovely to meet you too,” he said.

The four sat at the table, and then Yuuri laced his fingers together and asked, “So what’s this about, Phichit?”

Phichit leaned back in his chair with a satisfied expression.“I’ll let Ketty explain,” he said.

Viktor winced as Makkachin flopped down on his toes, but listened as Ketty explained, “Phichit was talking the other day about how you’re hoping to enter the International Concerto Competition, Yuuri, but you were having a lot of trouble finding a piece.So I thought… Maybe, if you wanted to try, we could collaborate?I could compose a piece for you like I did for Phichit last year, and then we could tweak it to your performance?”

Yuuri blinked, and then his face lit up.Viktor couldn’t help but smile at the delight in the violist’s expression.“You would do that for me?” he said hopefully. 

Ketty beamed.“It would be an honor,” she said sincerely.“For my piece to be performed by an amazing musician on the world’s stage?Composers dream of that.”

Yuuri beamed right back, the widest Viktor had seen him smile.“Thank you so much,” he said, clasping her hands.“I owe you one.”

“Told you he’d like the idea,” Phichit said, nudging Ketty.

She smiled, and then turned to both Viktor and Yuuri.“I’d like to get started as soon as possible,” she said.“But I’ll need to know a little about the competition.I dabble in the cello, but I’m not nearly good enough to compete at an international level, so I don’t know much about the inner workings of the ICC.Does he need more than one piece?Can you tell me what Yuuri’s piece will need to have for him to be able to win?”

Viktor nodded, folding his hands and leaning forward.“He’ll play the same piece for the qualifiers and the finals,” he said.“The winner of each of the six qualifiers goes on to the finals, so even though he’s playing the same piece he’ll be playing against different people the second time.”

“How technically difficult should it be?” Ketty asked.

“The scoring is a split between technical and subjective performance,” Viktor explained patiently.“Fifty percent is technical, and is based on things like notes, tempo, intonation, and rhythm.Before the competition, each piece is evaluated on a common scale to find its technical difficulty.That’s out of fifty points, and with each mistake made some amount of points is subtracted.The technical scoring system is designed so that all of the judge’s technical scores should be within a few points of each other.The subjective performance score, the other fifty percent, is obviously more subjective.Each judge may have a different perception on the performance score.Because of this, the highest and lowest raw scores are cut, and the other four are averaged together to get the final overall score.So his piece should be technically difficult, but with enough room for artistic interpretation as well.”

Ketty nodded.“Got it,” she said, and then smiled at Yuuri.“I’ll write a piece that will help you win.”

***

It was a week before Ketty finished the first draft of Yuuri’s piece.Viktor was just preparing to take Makkachin on a walk when Yuuri knocked on his door, and then tumbled in when Viktor opened it, red-paced and agitated.

“Ketty just emailed me the first draft of the piece,” he exclaimed, setting his viola case on the floor of Viktor’s apartment and brandishing several pages of sheet music.

Viktor smiled calmly and took the music from Yuuri's hands, and the violist bent down to pet Makkachin as he looked it over.

“She said it’s only the first draft,” Yuuri said.“And the orchestration isn’t finished.But do you… Um, do you want to hear it?”He straightened, suddenly blushing.

Viktor smiled.“Will you play it for me?” he asked.Yuuri nodded, and knelt on the ground to get his viola out of his case.Viktor took Makkachin back off her leash and shooed her into the kitchen before settling himself on the couch.

“Go ahead,” he said, hiding his anticipation.This was the most excited he had seen Yuuri get about a piecefor the ICC since they had started looking for one.

Yuuri spread out the first few pages on the floor, and lifted his viola to his chin, still kneeling on the floor.He met Viktor’s eyes and smiled before placing his bow on the strings and beginning to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I7FT0PHG9E).Viktor half-closed his eyes as he listened, quickly getting lost in the music.It was a little rough, since the piece was a draft and Yuuri was playing it for the first time, but the notes still seemed to dance, weaving and dipping and gliding around each other like they were alive.Yuuri finished the first few pages before he came to a good stopping point.

“What do you think?” he asked breathlessly, eyes shining.Viktor smiled back at him, unable to stop his heart from swelling with joy.

“What’s it called?” he asked.

Yuuri set his viola gently on the ground before rifling through the sheet music.“It’s called History Maker," he finally said, smiling uncontrollably.He looked up hopefully at Viktor, eyes wide.“Well?”

Viktor slid off the couch and sat crosslegged across from Yuuri, taking his hands.“It’s an apt name, History Maker,” he said, and Yuuri's smile widened a little.“It’s true.Yuuri, this is the piece that will win you the ICC.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people want their significant other to wear their clothes... Viktor wants Yuuri to play his violin. Musicians, amirite?
> 
> The piece Ketty wrote for Yuuri, History Maker, isn't the opening from the anime, but I wanted to use the name anyway. The link is to the opening, which I listened to on a loop for three hours while writing this because I have no shame.
> 
> This work is now part of a series. I'll probably post the first one shot in this verse tomorrow or Saturday.
> 
> Well, that's it for now! Thanks for reading, feel free to ask questions/give comments if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and I'll be back in August 14th with chapter 6, which has my new favorite scene... :) Have a fantastic day, dear reader!


	6. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is fluff and angst, and then a little more fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter... hopefully I did it justice. The observant among you will notice that i've added tags for anxiety and panic attacks. This chapter is why.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Yuuri has a panic attack in this chapter. It starts at "Yuuri froze," and ends at "Yuuri carefully took a sip of water." Please don't read if you think this will cause any harm to your mental health, please take care of yourself. That said, this is likely the most intense anxiety attack Yuuri has that will be described in this story. Nothing remarkably important to the plot happens in the section when Yuuri is panicking, but feel free to let me know if you'd like a brief overview of either the section in the middle or the entire chapter.
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“Yuuri, do it again from measure seventy one,” Viktor said.His tone was patient, but Yuuri could tell the violinist was just as frustrated as he was.

“I don't know what’s wrong with me,” Yuuri mumbled, sliding his fingers up the strings as he quietly plucked with his right hand.“I’m playing the notes, but I can’t get it to sound right.”Viktor rubbed his eyes and sighed.

Yuuri stifled his own sigh.He and Viktor had been working on his ICC piece for two hours already, just as they had every day since they had gotten the piece a month ago.Yuuri didn’t understand what he was doing wrong.Ketty’s piece was difficult, yes, but not impossible.Yuuri loved the way it pushed him, made him struggle to play it perfectly, beautifully.But something just hadn’t clicked; he couldn’t play with the emotion he knew he was capable of, the emotion the piece deserved.Which meant he didn’t deserve this piece, not yet.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said quietly, getting to his feet and drawing Yuuri’s attention before he could spiral.

“Let me try again,” Yuuri said desperately.

Viktor faced him, and then gently took the viola and bow from his hands and carefully set them on the couch.Yuuri wanted to protest, but the look in Viktor’s eyes stopped him.Viktor faced him again, and placed both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, looking him in the eye.“You need a break,” he said firmly.

Yuuri gulped.For the month that he had been working with Viktor, Yuuri had come to realize that the Russian man was a very physical person who communicated with touches and pats and hugs just as much as words.Yuuri slowly got used to the constant touches on his shoulder, arm, hand, back, but it still made him flush every time.It didn’t help, either, that Viktor’s face wasn’t very far away, and he was studying Yuuri with a gentle look in his eyes.

“I- I’m OK,” Yuuri promised, looking down.He couldn’t bear to look Viktor in the eye, not when he was such an utter disappointment.

Viktor sighed deeply.“That wasn’t an opinion, Yuuri, that was a fact,” he said.“Pushing yourself when you’re in this sort of mood isn't going to do any good.”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped up. “What sort of mood?” he demanded.

Viktor pressed his lips together, and a small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows.“Where anything less that perfection will make you doubt yourself,” he said directly, and Yuuri’s stomach plummeted, because Viktor was completely right.Yuuri couldn’t accept anything less than perfection, not when he had to prove that Viktor wasn’t wasting his time.

Viktor raised one brow a minute amount.“You know I’m right,” he said.“So we need to take a break.We can come back to this in an hour or two.”

“Just… Just let me play a little bit more,” Yuuri wheedled.“I have to get it right.It has to be perfect, or else I can’t win, and then I’m a disappointment.”

Viktor frowned, and leaned in until his forehead was pressed to Yuuri’s and there was nowhere Yuuri could look but into his eyes.“You are _not_ a disappointment,” Viktor said fiercely, so close that Yuuri could feel his warm breath on his cheeks, count the silvery lashes framing his eyes.Viktor inhaled deeply, and then continued.“Don’t say that, Yuuri.You are not a disappointment.You never will be.”

“I…”Yuuri muttered, but lost his train of thought when he saw the intensity in Viktor’s eyes.

“Do you think I am a liar, Yuuri?” Viktor whispered.

“No!” Yuuri immediately blurted, and then blushed.

Viktor’s lips twitched.“Then when I say you are not a disappointment, then you have no choice but to believe me,” he pointed out.He moved back a little, so their faces were no longer touching, but still close enough that Yuuri could feel Viktor’s body heat.“In fact, that means you have to believe _everything_ I say,” Viktor said in a teasing voice.“So you must believe it’s true when I say that you’re an amazing violist, and you have a good chance at winning the ICC, and you’re adorable, and-”

Yuuri jumped back with a yelp, shocked.Viktor called him adorable, or cute, or sweet, at least once a day, and Yuuri was sure the other man’s teasing was going to give him a heart attack one day.

“Wh-what should I do, then?” he stammered.

Viktor let his hands fall to his sides, and his smile seemed just a bit forced.

“Should I… go home?” Yuuri asked tentatively, looking up at Viktor through his eyelashes.He still couldn’t look at the other man head-on.He knew he shouldn’t let Viktor’s teasing get to him like that, the skip in Yuuri’s chest when Viktor teasingly complimented him wasn’t a good, thing, but Yuuri couldn’t help his reaction.He was sure it was hilarious, that was probably why Viktor teased him so much.

“No, Yuuri, don’t go,” Viktor said with an exaggerated pout.“I had a plan and everything!”

Yuuri blinked.“A _what?”_

Viktor carefully reached out, and when Yuuri didn’t pull back he took his hands.“When you’re not over here practicing, I’ve been taking Makkachin on a lot of walks around the city,” he explained.“We’ve seen a lot of interesting sights, she and I.And I think there’s a good place we can go for you to relax a little while.Just forget about the music for an hour, give yourself the time to relax.”

Yuuri frowned.“Viktor, I don’t have the time,” he protested.“If I’m going to win the ICC-”

“You won’t win if you work yourself to the bone and lose your passion for the piece,” Viktor said earnestly.“We’re taking a break, Yuuri, before you get frustrated and do something you might regret.The break can be fun, or I can take your viola hostage for an hour while you sulk.”

“I don’t sulk,” Yuuri said, frown deepening.He sighed heavily.“Fine.What do you want to do?”

Viktor gave him a beautiful, heart shaped smile.“Yuuri, do you know how to ice skate?”

***

“I don’t see how this is going to help,” Yuuri murmured as Viktor handed him a pair of rented skates, keeping the other for himself.They were at an indoor rink not too far from Viktor’s apartment, and although it was around two in the afternoon on a Wednesday, and although the rink wasn’t crowded, they weren’t alone either.

"Yuuri, the point of coming here is to let loose, relax for a little," Viktor said with a smile."And ice skating is more similar to playing music than you might think."Viktor led Yuuri into the main area of the rink, and they both sat down on a bench to change from their shoes to skates.

"How so?" Yuuri asked.

“Well,” Viktor said thoughtfully, bending over to lace up his skates.“In playing an instrument, you’re using music and body language to convey emotions and tell a story without using words.It’s the same in ice skating, just with more body language.”

“Have you skated before?” Yuuri asked curiously, glancing up.Viktor spoke with the air of someone who was experienced in what they were talking about.

“Not in a while,” Viktor admitted.“I took lessons for a while when I was a kid, but I had to quit once violin started getting more time consuming.I still try to watch the Grand Prix Finals and the World Championships, though; a lot of the music they use is beautiful.”Yuuri smiled in spite of himself.

Viktor stood and offered him a hand up.“Come on,” he said.“I'll teach you, I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it quickly.You can hold my hand.”

Despite Viktor’s teasing tone, Yuuri blushed.Viktor raised an eyebrow, waiting.Still red, Yuuri took Viktor’s hand and let the Russian man heave him up.He took a few wobbling steps towards the ice.“It doesn’t bode well if I’m going to fall before even getting on the ice,” Yuuri joked, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Viktor said cheerfully, and then helped Yuuri onto the ice rink.Yuuri almost immediately fell, only prevented from collapsing to his hands and knees by Viktor’s strong grip on his elbows.

Despite what Viktor probably thought, Yuuri had been ice skating before.Back in Hasetsu, there had been an ice rink, where Yuuri’s friends Yuuko and Takeshi had spent a lot of time.Yuuri had skated with them once or twice when he could make the time around his viola practice, but he hadn’t stepped foot on the ice in years and his stature and center of gravity had changed considerably since then.

Viktor laughed and helped him stand up straight.“Here, I’ll help you,” he said with a small smile.He skated around where Yuuri was clinging to the side, and wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist and rested his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder.“Just relax,” he whispered in Yuuri’s ear.“I won’t let you fall.”

Yuuri gulped, and he could feel his face flood with heat.“I d-don’t think this is very effective,” he stammered.

Viktor skated forward a little, pushing Yuuri with him.“It works,” he said softly, breath hot on the shell of Yuuri’s ear.“Just trust me.”

Despite his trembling legs and fluttering heart, Yuuri managed to relax a little, and let Viktor basically push him around the rink.Once they had done one lap, Viktor paused by the barrier again and unwrapped his arms from around Yuuri’s waist.Yuuri fought the disappointment off.He _wasn’t_ disappointedthat Viktor wasn’t wrapped around him anymore like a big, affectionate octopus.That he had lost the comforting warmth and steady guiding hand at his back.That would be ridiculous.

Viktor skated around to face him.“You’re doing so well!” he exclaimed, giving Yuuri a dazzling smile.

Yuuri smiled back a little.“Thanks, I guess,” he said shyly, looking down and digging one toe pick into the ice.

“Do you think you can skate on your own?” Viktor asked, casting a look at the hand gripping the barrier that Yuuri still used to keep his balance.

Yuuri bit his lip nervously.“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly.

Viktor gently took his hands.“You’re really getting the hang of this, Yuura,” he said quietly, and then carefully pulled Yuuri away from the barrier.Yuuri wobbled a little, but Viktor’s tight grip on his fingers steadied him.“Move your feet a little, like this,” Viktor instructed, demonstrating.“And your legs are a little too far apart, it’s throwing off your balance.”

Yuuri nervously made the adjustments Viktor told him to, and was a little surprised to find that they really did make balancing easier.Viktor kept his grip on one hand, lacing their fingers together, and led Yuuri in another circle around the ice, carefully avoiding other skaters.Yuuri wobbled a few times, tripping and stumbling, while Viktor skated calmly and serenely like he had been made for the ice, but Yuuri found that somehow he was having fun.And Viktor’s warm palm in his definitely didn’t hurt.

They skated several slow circles around the rink before Viktor asked, “How did you get into playing the viola, Yuuri?”

Yuuri considered that thoughtfully before answering.“A friend of my family’s, Minako Okukawa, is a retired musician,” he said.“Once when I was over at her house with my family, I started messing with one of the instruments she had left out, a violin.She was about to get angry, but then she heard me plucking a song I had heard on the radio a few minutes previous, and decided to teach me how to play, instead.”

“How old were you?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri frowned thoughtfully.“Maybe six?” he guessed.

He noticed that Viktor was studying him out of the corner of his eye.“So how did you come across the viola, then?” he asked.

Yuuri shrugged.“Honestly, I just liked the sound better,” he said.“Violins always sounded a little shrill to me.”He realized what he had said and looked at Viktor, eyes wide and terrified.“I- I didn’t mean it like that!” he exclaimed desperately.

“Should I be insulted, Yuuri?” Viktor asked, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Yuuri looked down in shame, and slipped his hand out of Viktor’s.Viktor probably didn’t even want to be _near_ him anymore.Yuuri stumbled over an uneven patch of ice, but his fall was arrested just before his face hit the ice.

“Hey,” Viktor laughed, tightening his grip on Yuuri’s forearms and pulling him up.He slid an arm around Yuuri’s waist.“I guess I shouldn’t have let go of you,” he laughed, and then sobered when he saw Yuuri’s expression.“Yuuri, I was teasing.I’m not insulted.”

Yuuri looked up at him hopefully.“No?”

Viktor just laughed, not looking at all annoyed.

“I’m still sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, embarrassed.

Viktor’s arm around his waist tightened, becoming more of a hug than a supporting gesture, and he leaned his head against Yuuri’s shoulder.Yuuri was sure he was blushing, face hot despite the cool of the ice.The sudden, casual intimacy of the act threw him off.“Are you enjoying yourself?” Viktor murmured.

“I-um-uh-” Yuuri stammered, no idea how to respond.

Viktor laughed.“I think my plan is working,” he said.“You seem less stressed.”

Yuuri paused, thinking.It was true, since he and Viktor had stepped onto the ice he hadn’t really thought about all of the pressure he was under to win the ICC and prove himself.The knots of pain in his back from standing up straight and playing the viola for hours at a time had lessened as he moved, and even his fingertips didn’t ache quite as much.

Yuuri offered Viktor a shy smile.“I think you’re right,” he said.“This is helping.”

Viktor pouted.“Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised,” he complained.Still keeping an arm around Yuuri’s waist, Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s hand.“You’re picking this up quickly.”

“Only because you’re holding me up,” Yuuri replied, a little embarrassed.

Viktor chuckled.“I could probably let go.If I wanted.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he realized the implication.Viktor could let go if he wanted, but he hadn’t let go.Because he didn’t want to.With that realization, Yuuri lost all concentration and tripped over his own feet, falling on his butt.

Viktor laughed, the sound happy and unrestrained.“OK, maybe I spoke too soon.”

Yuuri pulled himself up and leaned against the barrier to catch his breath.Viktor skated a graceful figure, adding a little jump, and glided back up to Yuuri.Yuuri eyed him.“You’re good,” he said.

Viktor shrugged, and maybe it was the cold, but it looked like he was blushing a little.“That was only a single loop,” he said.“Not that difficult.”

Yuuri laughed quietly.“You’re talking to someone who hasn’t ice skated in nearly fifteen years,” he said.

Viktor smiled as he skated closer, so they were face to face.“We should change that,” he said softly.“I find that this is a good way to unwind.We should come here again.”

“S-sure,” Yuuri stuttered, unable to look away from Viktor.

The Russian man suddenly grinned.“How are you feeling?” he asked.“Are you cold?We’ve been here almost an hour.”

Yuuri blinked, and then glanced at his watch.“Really?”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Viktor chirped.

Yuuri smiled tentatively.“I guess so, yeah.”

“Let’s do a few more circles,” Viktor said, grabbing Yuuri’s hands.Yuuri couldn’t help a smile as Viktor swung him back out on the ice and started spinning them in dizzying circles, laughing all the while.

***

Yuuri took a long sip of his hot tea, reveling in the warm steam against his cold cheeks.He and Viktor had ice skated for almost an hour and a half, until Yuuri’s legs were weak and his fingers tingled with cold, and then Viktor had insisted on getting hot drinks to warm up.They sat in a small cafe near the ice rink, Yuuri very much enjoying the hot tea and heated building after the cool of the ice rink.

Viktor sat across from Yuuri with his own mug of tea, still a little pink with cold, but his eyes were bright as he looked up at Yuuri through his fringe.“I had a lot of fun, Yuura,” he said softly.

Yuuri took another sip of tea to hide his giddy smile.Never in a million years had he imagined that he would have Viktor Nikiforov, the world-famous violinist, sitting across from him in a New York City coffee shop and smiling like that.“I had fun too," Yuuri said.“We should do it again.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, and Yuuri hastily added, “I mean, only if you want to, of course!I just thought-”

“I’d love to do this again, Yuura,” he said softly, a fond look in his eyes.

Yuuri’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but Yuuri ignored it in favor of smiling across the table at Viktor.“I’m glad,” he said shyly, and then gathered the courage to ask, “Why Yuura?”

Viktor blinked.“Pardon?”

Yuuri looked down at the table.“You called me Yuura.”Yuuri was sure this time he didn’t imagine the color flooding Viktor’s cheeks.

“I, um,” he said, and cleared his throat.Yuuri’s phone buzzed, and he seriously considered taking it out and putting it on silent, but before he could, Viktor explained, “It’s how we nickname in Russia.Diminutives.A lot of the time full names aren’t used as often among friends and family.I thought… I thought maybe I could call you Yuura.I can stop if you want.”

Yuuri beamed at him.“I don’t mind,” he said happily.

Viktor smiled back just as brightly, definitely blushing.“Yuura, listen, I was wondering… I mean, I really like-”He cut off, and cocked his head.“What’s that sound?”

Yuuri blushed, this time with embarrassment.His phone had been buzzing incessantly in his pocket for the last minute straight, and he had been ignoring it, but it seemed Viktor had heard.“It’s just my phone,” Yuuri said.

Viktor frowned.“Someone sounds desperate to get ahold of you,” he said.

Yuuri sighed."It's probably Phichit,” he said.“He likes to send me memes when he’s bored in class.”

The worried frown didn’t leave Viktor’s face.“Maybe you should check, just in case something’s wrong,” he said.

Yuuri swallowed.He had a feeling that whatever Viktor had been planning on saying before they were interrupted was important, but the Russian was distracted now.Yuuri reluctantly pulled his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed again, and glanced at the screen. “See, it’s just Phichit,” he said, and then caught sight of what the long string of texts actually said before scrolling down and reading from the beginning.

 

**Phichit [3:54]**

Yuuri, are u @ Viktor’s?

 

**Phichit [3:55]**

Are u practicing rn?

 

**Phichit [3:56]**

Can one of u answer pls?I have something important to ask u

 

**Phichit [3:57]**

Yuuri, don’t ignore me.

 

**Phichit [3:58]**

Yuuri.

 

**Phichit [3:58]**

Yuuri.

 

**Phichit [3:58]**

Yuuri.

 

**Phichit [3:59]**

Yuuri.

 

**Phichit [4:02]**

I’m coming to Viktor’s apartment.

 

**Phichit [4:04]**

I’ve been knocking for two mins, let me in u nerd

 

**Phichit [4:04]**

Yuuri.Let me in.

 

**Phichit [4:05]**

I’m getting the key Viktor gave me.If u two are screwing, I swear to god…

 

**Phichit [4:08]**

YUURI WHERE ARE U MAKKA IS HERE ALL ALONE

 

**Phichit [4:09]**

YUURI ANSWER ME

 

**Phichit [4:09]**

WHY IS UR VIOLA HERE AND U AREN’T

 

**Phichit [4:09]**

WHERE ARE U

 

**Phichit [4:09]**

ANSWER ME YUURI

 

**Phichit [4:09]**

I’M TEXTING VIKTOR!!!

 

**Phichit [4:11]**

He’s not picking up where r u two?!?!?

 

**Phichit [4:11]**

YUURI

 

**Phichit [4:11]**

YUURI U NEED TO COME BACK RN

 

**Phichit [4:11]**

IT’S AN EMERGENCY.

 

**Phichit [4:11]**

ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT

 

Yuuri swallowed guiltily.“Uh, yeah, It’s Phichit,” he said again.“Did he text you?”

Viktor shrugged.“My phone is back home,” he said.

Yuuri sighed.“Crap.”

“What did he say?” Viktor asked.

“He’s panicking about something,” Yuuri said.“Hold on.”

 

**You [4:12]**

Phichit, what’s the matter?

 

**Phichit [4:12]**

YUURI COME HOME RN!!!

 

**You [4:12]**

Viktor and I are getting coffee, we’ll be back in a little

 

**Phichit [4:12]**

YUURI U NEED TO COME HOME!!!

 

**Phichit [4:12]**

IT’S ABOUT THE ICC

 

Yuuri's breath caught.“We need to go,” he said, standing.

“What is it?” Viktor asked, giving Yuuri a worried look as he stood in unison.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said, the beginnings of anxiety stirring in his chest.“But Phichit is freaked out about something to do with the ICC.”

Viktor’s eyes widened.“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair.

Yuuri left twenty dollars on the table and walked quickly after Viktor.They opted not to take the subway at Yuuri’s insistence, who knew that the enclosed space wouldn’t do anything to help the panic beginning to bloom in his chest at Phichit’s frantic texts.

“Hey, calm down,” Viktor said quietly, wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.He must have noticed Yuuri’s quickened breathing.“This is Phichit we’re talking about, remember.He’s almost as overdramatic as I am.He had a meltdown last week because his name was last on a group project and it should have been second to last in alphabetical order.I’m sure he's overreacting.”

Yuuri laughed a little in spite of himself.“I guess you have a point.”

Viktor kept an arm around Yuuri, and Yuuri was surprised to find that his heartbeat slowed a little.It seemed Viktor’s touch had a calming effect, much like Phichit’s did, and Yuuri was able to quell the rising panic for the time being.That didn’t stop them from taking the stairs up to Viktor’s floor rather than wait for the elevator.They found Viktor's apartment door open as Phichit paced in agitated circles around the living room while Makkachin sat curled up on the couch and watched him with anxious eyes.

Phichit looked up when they came in, and breathed a sigh of relief.“Yuuri!” he exclaimed, stepping forward and grabbing Yuuri’s shoulder.“Yuuri, when was the last time you were in a competition?”

Yuuri blinked, surprised.“You mean, like, for viola?”

Phichit rolled his eyes.“No, pole dancing.”

Yuuri ignored the sarcasm.Phichit got prickly when he was nervous about something.“I haven’t been in a competition in a while,” he said thoughtfully.“I think the last one was… last August?I’ve been sticking to concerts and exhibitions.”He frowned.“Why?”

“Oh, fuck,” Viktor breathed, the first time Yuuri had really heard him swear.Yuuri turned to see the Russian man staring at Phichit in horror.

Phichit nodded grimly.“We need to find something, fast," he said.

Yuuri looked between the two of them, confused.“What is it?”

Phichit met Yuuri’s eyes.“Yuuri, you aren’t eligible for the qualifiers of the ICC if you haven’t competed and scored well in the last year,” he said, too scared to soften his words.“And if you aren’t in the qualifiers, you can’t get to the finals of the ICC.  I had a competition earlier this summer, but your last one was more than fourteen months ago.”

Yuuri froze.

The world faded into a dull, hazy background.He couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat thumping in his ears, thumping in his chest like it was trying to escape.

Because of his stupidity, because of his reluctance to perform normally, like musicians were _supposed to_ , he was going to fail.He wouldn’t even get his chance.He was going to let everyone down, because he hadn’t thought about making sure he would even qualify to register for the ICC.If he hadn’t been so _arrogant_ , so _stupid_.

Yuuri’s breath was coming in short pants, unable to squeeze past the knots in his chest.He staggered back, crashing into something, and sunk to the ground.

He was a failure, a waste of time, a waste of space… All the work everyone he cared about had put in to help him was pointless because of his stupid mistake. Phichit, who had always been nothing but good to him, had lost sleep helping him look for a piece, listened to him incessantly practice, went to get coffee with him even when he had homework because Yuuri was stressed.Ketty had written him a beautiful piece, and he couldn’t do it justice, and now he wouldn’t even have the chance to try.And Viktor… 

Yuuri choked back a sob.

Viktor had given up a year to help him, even though he only needed about six months for his hand to completely heal.Viktor had moved halfway across the world from his comfortable home in his own country to a dingy apartment building in a city he had never stayed in for more than a week or so before.Viktor had spent hours with him, trying to get him to play his piece right, always patient, always encouraging.Viktor had taken the time to do other things with him too, to get coffee, or walk in the park, or pick up takeout, even go ice skating when Yuuri was acting like a brat.And it was all wasted, because Yuuri was too stupid and cowardly to put in the effort it would take to actually compete like a normal person.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, still trying to get air through his narrowed windpipe.He felt a sharp pain in his mouth, tasted blood.

He had ruined it.He had ruined it like always.Just when it seemed like things might just work out, he ruined it.Because he didn't deserve this, he didn’t deserve this happiness.He was a terrible person, he didn’t thank his friends enough, he did so much wrong, he hadn’t even been there when his goddamn _dog_ died, and now he had ruined this too.It was over.His chance was lost.He had lost.

Yuuri slowly became aware of someone’s arms around him, someone’s hand stroking his hair, whispering words in his ear.Yuuri was trembling, shaking, he couldn’t think in clear sentences, his chest was tight and he was dizzy and the world was swimming in front of his eyes, and why couldn’t he breathe, and colors were blurring and fading and blackness crept in and Yuuri welcomed it because he belonged there he deserved to be there he was a wreck a failure a terrible person he just wanted it to be over it was easier better without him-

 

 

Blue.

 

 

Soft blue in front of his eyes.

Yuuri heard someone saying in his ear, “In.Out.In.Out.”

Without meaning to, he forced his chest to move with the voice.In.Out.In.Out.

Little by little, cold air trickled into his tight lungs, not enough for Yuuri to feel comfortable but enough for him to see the blue.Eyes.They were eyes, studying him with a gentle, concerned light, peeking out from behind a fringe of silver hair.The voice in Yuuri’s ear kept talking, telling him how to breathe, and Yuuri watched the eyes.Not for a moment did he see any judgement, or anger, or disgust, or pity, just calm and concern and… and love.

“In.Out.In.Out,” Phichit said in Yuuri’s ear, keeping his arms gentlyaround Yuri’s shoulders.Yuuri felt warm, secure.Phichit cradled him, and Yuuri felt warm.His trembling grew less pronounced and the tenseness in his shoulders let up a bit as exhaustion made his limbs feel like lead.In front of Yuuri, Viktor kept gentle, unforced eye contact, one hand holding Yuuri’s and the other gently combing through his hair.Yuuri closed his eyes, unable to meet Viktor’s eyes.How could the Russian man even bear to look at him with such affection, not when Yuuri was such a disgusting, useless, burdensome waste of space, when he-

“Hey,” Phichit said quietly, tapping on Yuuri’s chest.“Look at me.”

Yuuri forced his eyes open.He asked so much of Phichit every day, it was the least he could do to comply with a simple request, as much as he didn’t want to force his friend to look at him.

Phichit studied him with kind, warm brown eyes.“Breathe, OK?” he said.“Just keep breathing with me.In.Out.In.Out.”

It took about ten minutes for Yuuri to feel less lightheaded as he got air into his constricted chest.During that time, Phichit kept up a steady rhythm of breathing, and Viktor gently carded his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, soothingly massaging his scalp.

Once Yuuri felt more exhausted than panicked, and his body was mostly relaxed sitting on the floor against the wall, Viktor said softly to Phichit, “What can I do?”

“Can you get some water?” Phichit asked.Viktor nodded.He pressed his lips to Yuuri’s hairline and then got to his feet, walking quickly to the kitchen.

Yuuri closed his eyes, but the tears welled up and spilled over anyway.“I’m sorry,” he whispered.“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Phichit whispered, pulling Yuuri more into his arms.“You didn’t do anything wrong.It’s not lost, we can still fix it.I’m sure we can find a way to fix this.We just need to be calm and clear-headed, OK?Can you do that?”

“I’m so stupid,” Yuuri whispered.“This is all my fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” Phichit said gently.“This is just a bump in the road.We will get past it.”

Viktor returned, knelt down in front of Yuuri, pressed a glass into his hands.“Here,” he said.“You should drink.I think you bit your tongue.”

Yuuri opened his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek and dripped onto the floor.“I’m sorry, Viktor,” he said in anguish.“I’m a waste of time, I’m a waste of your time-”

“Yuura,” Viktor said softly.He took Yuuri’s hand, cupping it like it was something precious.“You are not a waste of time.You will _never_ be a waste of time.Please don’t say that.”He gently wiped away one of Yuuri’s tears with his thumb.“Drink, Yuura,” he said.

Yuuri carefully took a sip of water.

“I did some research,” Phichit said calmly.“It’s not too late, but we have to work fast if we’re going to get you into a competition with enough prestige to help you qualify for the ICC.”Yuuri nodded, too wrung out to fret.

“I think I know of one,” Viktor said thoughtfully.“Let me make some calls.”He gave Yuuri a worried look.“Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” Yuuri whispered.“I’m sorry.”

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, solnyshko,” Viktor said, gave Yuuri’s cheek one last caress, and then stood and left the room with his phone.

“Come on,” Phichit murmured.“Can you stand up?”Yuuri got to his feet, still holding the water, and Phichit stood with him.Yuuri drained the half-glass of water and set it on the ground.Phichit immediately enveloped him in a hug.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he muttered.“I should have been calmer.”

“It’s not your fault,” Yuuri replied tiredly, sinking into his best friend’s hug.“I’m just weak.”

“You’re not,” Phichit insisted.He tugged Yuuri onto the couch and sat down next to him, keeping him in a hug.Yuuri closed his eyes and buried his face in his friend’s shoulder.“You’re strong, Yuuri, so strong,” Phichit whispered.“That you can be as amazing, talented, and successful as you are in such a difficult profession despite the obstacles you face.”

Yuuri just sighed and relaxed into Phichit’s warm hug, exhausted.Panic attacks always took a lot out of him.

Yuuri and Phichit sat on the couch, both stubbornly refusing to let go of each other, for about ten minutes until Viktor came back.The Russian man had a small, smug smile on his lips as he strolled into the room, tossing his phone up and down.

“Any luck?” Phichit asked, finally letting go of Yuuri.

Viktor’s smile grew, and he knelt down in front of the couch so he was at eye level with Yuuri and Phichit.“I had to call in a few favors,” he said.“But there’s a suitable competition that they’ll let Yuuri register for as long as we submit the paperwork by the end of tomorrow.It’s in two months.Do you think you can do it?”

Yuuri looked down at his hands and nodded.“I don’t know if I can have Ketty’s piece ready by then,” he admitted quietly.“But there are other pieces that I keep in relatively good practice, just in case I need something to show off with.”

Viktor smiled.“Perfect,” he said.“Problem solved.Will you do it, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nodded, and then looked up through his bangs to meet Viktor’s eyes.“Thank you, Viktor,” he whispered.

Viktor gave him a beautiful smile.“Anything, Yuura, for you.”He pulled Yuuri into a hug, and Yuuri sighed contentedly, face pressed against Viktor’s shoulder.“You see, there’s nothing you can’t do if you just have a little help,” Viktor whispered.“You are unstoppable.”

Yuuri just hugged him a little tighter, but that was reply enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief note: While I did research for this chapter, I know that not everyone deals with anxiety in the same way. I did not intend to generalize/stereotype anyone who has an anxiety disorder or suffers from panic attacks, so please don't misconstrue the characters' words and actions as such. In no way do I mean to offend anyone with the events of this chapter. Please politely let me know if there's anything I can do to make this chapter better or more accurate.
> 
> Also feel free to comment/ask questions about this AU or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I'll be back on the 17th with a new chapter! Have a sensational day, dear reader!


	7. Trial by Concert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuri plays the violin, Yuuri plays the viola, and Viktor tries to get his jaw off the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is hella long (for me), I really didn't mean to make it this long. I should have stopped two thousand words ago, but then Yurio decided to get chatty. Oops.
> 
> Also... this is chapter seven... y'all know what happens in episode seven... ;)
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“Yura.It’s nearly time.”

Yuri Plisetsky ignored Yakov in favor of his violin.

“Yuri,” Yakov said again, voice sharp.

Yuri sighed heavily.“What is it?”

“You have five minutes,” Yakov said.“And then you need to take your seat until it’s your time to perform.”

“I know,” Yuri snapped, fingering a difficult run he had been struggling with, touching the string lightly with his thumb to get small plucks.

Yakov sighed, rubbing his temples.He seemed frustrated, for some reason.“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

Yuri shrugged, returning his full attention to his violin.“Hell if I care.”

Yakov sighed again, but before he could say anything someone called out to him, waving.“I’ll be right back,” he told Yuri.

Yuri ignored him, gently stroking the strings of his violin to practice chords.He leaned back against the wall, content with the corner he occupied in a crowded room filled with musicians of all instruments warming up and practicing.

Yuri could barely hear himself think over the racket, so the only reason he knew his phone was ringing was because he could feel it vibrating in his pocket.Yuri ignored it the first time, coaxing a melody out of his violin.Viktor had been texting him all day, telling him about Katsuki’s competition in a week and wishing him luck in his own competition.It gave Yuri a vindictive sort of pleasure to ignore the older man, petty as it was.

His phone rang a minute later, and this time Yuuri tugged it out of his pocket, preparing to give Viktor the telling off of his life.It wasn’t Viktor calling, but Mrs. Ivanova, who lived near Yuri and his grandfather.

Yuri fumbled to answer the phone, catching it just before it stopped ringing.“Hello?” he said.

“Yura,” Mrs. Ivanova said.“Are you in Moscow right now?”

Yuri frowned.“No, I’m in Novosibirsk for a competition,” he replied.“Why?”

“It’s.. it’s your grandfather, Yura,” Mrs. Ivanova sighed.

Yuri froze.He very carefully put his violin on the ground and sunk to his knees beside it, leaning against the wall.“What?”

“Your grandfather is in the hospital,” Mrs. Ivanova said.

“What?!” Yuri screeched.“What, oh my god!What happened?Is he OK?What the fuck happened?”

“Language, Yura,” Mrs. Ivanova chided, and then her tone turned serious.“To my understanding, he fell and broke his hip.He’s not going to die, as far as anyone can tell, but he’s not good.”

“How long ago did this happen?” Yuri whispered, throat closing.

“This morning,” Mrs. Ivanova replied.“Yura, when are you coming back to Moscow?”

“T-tomorrow,” Yuri stammered.He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.“Mrs. Ivanova, please.Tell me the truth.How bad is he?”

Mrs. Ivanova exhaled slowly.“Like I said, his injuries aren’t life-threatening,” she said.“But your grandfather is getting on in his years, and there’s a good chance he won’t be able to walk properly.”

Yuri took a shuddering breath, stomach churning.“Mrs. Ivanova… c-can you-”

“Your grandfather is in surgery now,” she said kindly.“But I’ll have him call you as soon as he’s lucid.”

“Thank you,” Yuri whispered.“And… and my cats-”

“Already in my kitchen,” Mrs. Ivanova assured him.“My boy Alexei is feeding them.”

“Thank you,” Yuri whispered again.

“Good luck with your competition, Yura,” Mrs. Ivanova said.“I’m sure your grandfather is proud of you.”

“Yes,” Yuri whispered, and then hung up.He let the phone fall into his lap and buried his face in his hands, fighting back tears.His grandfather was the only person he had left, the only person who always tolerated him and didn’t take his bullshit (besides Viktor, but Viktor had left).His grandfather was hurt, and Yuri wasn’t there to help him.God, who knew how long the old man had lain where he had fallen, in pain, maybe unconscious… because Yuri hadn’t been there.Somehow, this was his fault.He had to get back to Moscow.

Yuri stood up and shoved his phone in his pocket before tugging his violin case towards him.He packed up his violin, unconsciously being careful with his instrument despite the tears stinging his eyes and the fury burning in his chest.That done, he stood and turned, coming face to face with Yakov.

“Yuri, what are you doing?” the man snapped, before catching sight of Yuri’s face, red with the effort of holding back his tears.“Yura?”Yuri tried to push past him, but Yakov caught his shoulder.“Where are you going?” he asked, tone somewhere between concerned and irritated.

“I’m going back to Moscow,” Yuri snapped.

“What?” Yakov said incredulously.“What are you talking about?No, you’re not.”

Yuri tried to escape Yakov’s grip.“My grandfather is in the hospital!” he yelled.“I’m going back, even if I have to walk!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Yuri, Moscow is over two thousand kilometers away,” Yakov scoffed.“Be rational.Our flight back is first thing tomorrow.”

“I!DON’T! CARE!”Yuri yelled, and succeeded in freeing his arm from Yakov’s grasp.

Yakov grabbed the boy’s shoulders before he could run away, and forced Yuri to look him in the eye.“Is this what your grandfather would want?” he hissed.“Whatever is wrong with him, you won’t be able to do anything.You’re more use here, playing in a competition that will give you the prize money to pay for his hospital bills, than you would be in a dingy waiting room at a hospital in Moscow.”

Yuri’s chest heaved with quick breaths.He felt sick to his stomach.

Yakov narrowed his eyes.“This is your dream, Yuri, your ticket to the ICC,” he said.“Do you really want to give that up?Would your grandfather want that?”

“No,” Yuri admitted after a long moment in a strangled whisper.

Yakov nodded.“Then unpack your instrument, and tune again,” he instructed sternly.“You have about three minutes before you have to take your seat.And I’d advise you get control of yourself.If you’re distracted during your performance, you could hurt yourself.”

Yuri knelt on the ground with his back to Yakov and slowly popped the latches on his case.He unpacked, tightened, and rosined his bow before cradling his violin in his lap, quickly and mindlessly tuning it.He felt numb, and although the rage still burned behind his ribcage there was nothing Yuri could do to release it. He knew, reasonably, that Yakov was right.There was no way he could get back to Moscow before tomorrow, and he could do nothing to help his grandfather if he was at the hospital.That didn’t change the fact that Yuri felt like he wanted to throw up, because it seemed as though he was abandoning his grandfather, the only person left who loved him.

Yuri got to his feet in a daze and followed Yakov out of the room and into the concert hall.The competitors playing that day were all required to sit and listen to their fellow musicians play.Yuri had lucked out; this competition, while very prestigious, only, had five musicians playing.That meant it would only be two or three hours long, rather than four or five.Yuri was on fourth, which meant he had to wait through three other performances before he could play his own piece.That would do nothing to help his nerves.Yuri didn’t normally get nervous for competitions, not even the Junior World Prodigies he had won last year, but this time the stakes seemed impossibly high.This competition was his ticket into the qualifiers of the ICC, and if he lost it would be like admitting that Viktor, and Katsuki, and every other person hoping to win the ICC was better than him.He had a lot to prove, and this was where it began.

Yakov showed him to his reserved seat in the front row.“I’ll see you after the competition, Yura,” he murmured.“Break a leg.”

Yuri nodded numbly.Yakov studied him with narrowed eyes, and then held out a hand.“Phone.”

Yuri’s eyes widened furiously.“Absolutely fucking not!” he exclaimed.“I need to have it in case there’s news about my grandfather!"

“That’s exactly why you don’t need it,” Yakov snapped.“You must stay clearheaded, Yuri.Don’t blow your only chance.”

Seething, Yuri tugged his phone from his pocket and slapped it into Yakov’s outstretched palm.“Happy?”

“Very,” Yakov said dryly.He clapped Yuri on the shoulder.“Sit down, and pay attention,” he said.“Do not make the same mistakes your competitors make.”

Yuri nodded sharply, and Yakov left without another word.Yuri sunk down into his seat, cradling his violin.He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing in the woody, piney scent of his instrument.

“Hello,” someone said from Yuri’s left, and he cracked open one eyelid.A pretty girl a few years older than him sat down in the seat next to him, and gave him a small smile.

“What,” Yuri said flatly.He barely had the tolerance to deal with Yakov, much less some stranger he was supposed to be competing against.

“I’m Mila,” the girl said, tucking a hank of red hair behind one ear.

“Good for you,” Yuri said apathetically.He eyed the instrument in her hands, a bassoon, and then said, “I thought this competition was only for string players.”

Mila smiled again.“No, it’s open to all instruments,” she said.“I’m just the only wind player that qualified.”

Yuri snorted.

“You’re sort of grumpy,” Mila said thoughtfully.“What’s your name?”

Yuri eyed her, but she seemed serious.“Yuri,” he said grudgingly after a long moment of awkward silence.

“Nice to meet you, Yuri,” she said.“I’m going to beat you, but it’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes, irritation flaring.“What, you’re going to beat me with _that?”_ he scoffed, making a face at her bassoon.

Mila pouted.“Don’t insult my baby,” she said, patting it.

“What are you even playing?” Yuri asked.“I didn’t know they made music for solo bassoons.”

Mila waved an unconcerned hand.“Of course they do, they make music for everything,” she said.“It’s by Mozart.”She rummaged under her chair, and then handed him a sheaf of sheet music.

“You’re not supposed to have music,” Yuri informed her.

“Oh, I know,” Mila said with a laugh.“I’m not going to use it.”

Yuri looked over the music with a critical eye.“This looks stupid,” he said scornfully.“You’re not going to beat me with _this.”_

Mila shrugged.“I want to win,” she said.“But I will admit that I’m doing this competition mostly for fun.I’m already in the qualifiers for the International Concerto Competition.”

Yuri stared at her.“What?”

Mila gave him a haughty look.“Surprised?” she said.“This year I’m going to place, too.Now that Viktor Nikiforov isn’t competing, I have a better chance at winning.”

Yuri sneered at her.“Yeah, _sure_.If you say so.”

Mila just gave him a small smile.“I suppose that’s why you’re here,” she said.“Is that right, little Yuri?”

“Shut up, hag,” Yuri snapped, jerking back.

Mila just laughed.“I’m sure you’ll do fine, kitten,” she said.

“Fuck you!” Yuri spat.

Mila didn’t seem at all phased, just taking her sheet music from his hands before he could crumple it.She sobered, and then said, “But are you sure you’re alright to play?”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed into slits.“What is that supposed to mean?”

Mila hesitated, looking genuinely concerned.“I… overheard you talking to your teacher,” she said.“Something about your grandfather?”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” Yuri snarled, fists clenching.

Mila looked like she wanted to disagree, but before she could say anything the lights in the concert hall dimmed, and the first musician walked onstage and sat with his cello between his legs. “Best of luck, Yuri,” Mila whispered before turning her attention to the stage as the music began.

Yuri sat tense in his seat, glaring at the stage, unable to concentrate even as the music washed over him.How dare she presume- no right- his grandfather was _his concern,_ no one else’s- he should have _been there_ -

Before Yuri knew it, the first two musicians had finished to enthusiastic applause and Mila was going on stage.Yuri felt sick to his stomach as the girl situated herself in the middle of the stage in front of the orchestra with her bassoon on a strap over her shoulder, and closed her eyes as a hush fell over the audience.Yuri couldn’t help but hold his breath as well as there was a moment of silence before the orchestra began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYOPQuhdoQM%20), Mila after them.Yuri grudgingly had to admit, despite the overly long orchestral introduction, Mila was good.Very good.She coaxed the music into something much more complex and interesting than Yuri would have expected, having looked at the sheet music.

Mila finished her piece and bowed to the audience’s applause with a wide smile on her face before leaving the stage.Yuri stood, mouth dry and palms clammy.He walked ghostlike up the stairs to the stage, unintentionally ignoring Mila when she gave him an encouraging smile before walking off.

He had no idea why his heart was thundering in his ears, why his skin felt hot and prickly under the concert attire he had to wear, why the only sound he could hear was a buzzing in his ears and the faint whisper of the audience’s chatter, like someone had turned a radio down low.Yuri stopped in the middle of the stage and looked down at the boards under his feet.He wasn’t nervous.He _wasn’t_.He wouldn’t allow himself to be.He had done much harder competitions than this.He had no reason to be nervous.It wasn’t like his entire musical career could potentially ride on how he performed… 

Yuri looked up, sweat already beading on his brow, as the audience quieted.He made eye contact with the conductor before lifting his violin.His hands were shaking.Yuri held his breath until they stopped. The piece he and Yakov had chosen for the national competition was Dvorak’s Violin Concerto in A Minor, a piece Yuri knew by heart, knew like the palm of his hand, but he couldn’t play it if his fingers refused to stop trembling.

The conductor lifted his stick, and the orchestra came alive, suddenly alert and attentive.Yuri came alive too, straightening his spine and lifting his elbow a little.He could do this.He had done this before.He refused to make mistakes, refused to back down. _No one_ could take this from him.

The first [bar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rAd0-pTuU8%20) thundered out over the audience and Yuri absently tapped his foot along with the music, counting beats until his cue like he didn’t know the piece from back to front, like he didn’t hear every note in his dreams.His cue came, and the first chords of Yuri’s solo emerged from his instrument almost by their own volition, fingering the correct notes automatically.

Yuri quickly lost himself in the music, slipping easily into the exchange between the orchestra and his own part of the music, playing with more intensity and passion and fury than he had in a long time.It was about three minutes in when Yuri made his first mistake, hitting one of his high notes slightly flat.Yuri unconsciously flinched but recovered, hitting the next rapid succession of notes flawlessly, but he couldn’t slip back into the trancelike state he had started in.

Now he was painfully aware of each note, each rest, each slur he had to get absolutely perfect if he was going to win.He was aware of the sweat collecting in the lines of his palms, the ache developing in his fingertips even after such a short time playing, the strand of hair that annoyingly brushed his cheek and hung into his eyes.Yuri tried to flick the hair our of his eyes, and made his second mistake, fingers slipping on the last note of a run.Yuri swallowed, eyes going wide, but forced himself back into the music.He couldn’t make mistakes.He _couldn’t._ It wasn’t allowed.He couldn’t make mistakes if he wanted to win, and suddenly Yuri had never wanted anything more.It made him selfish, it made him a bad person, but Yuri _needed_ to win.

His fingers danced over the strings, sliding up higher and higher, hitting each note with precision, completely and totally in control.He had to have control.If he lost control, then he lost everything.

The music took a turn, playing a little more gently and quietly, and Yuri forced himself to relax a little.He needed to play not only with technical perfection, but with musicality as well.The burning drive to win, to beat everyone and prove that he was the best, was good for the intense parts of the music, but not for this gentle section in the middle.It was a good thing he hadn’t chosen the second movement to play, he wouldn’t be able to pull that off in the state he was in.

Yuri breathed a silent sigh of relief when the music picked back up again and he could play with the fury and passion that filled him to the brim, practically tearing the notes out of his violin.He knew that the movement ended on a more gentle note that led into the second movement, but now he could play out all of his anger, make everyone in the audience fell just as furious as he did.

That part of the music was over all too quickly, and Yuri slid fluidly into the last short section of the movement, coaxing slow, gentle, tremulous notes out of his violin as the accompaniment swelled and faded behind him before ending on a low note and holding it out rather than transitioning into the next movement like he would if he was playing the whole piece.

Yuri let the note fade and kept his violin on his shoulder for a long, silent, breathless moment before relaxing.A drop of moisture trickled down his cheek.He wasn’t sure if it was sweat or a tear.

The thunderous applause startled Yuri, and he squinted, shocked to see that he had gotten the first standing ovation.He had almost forgotten that he was being watched, to be honest.Yuri automatically bowed before stiffly making his way off the stage.

He knew the results already, even though there was one more musician to go.Yuri well knew he had played nearly perfectly, and it was more than enough to win.

“Yuri, that was incredible!” Mila exclaimed as he took his seat.

Yuri just nodded.He felt hollow, wrung-out.He had given everything he had to that performance.He wasn’t sure he had anything left to give.

“I’m sure you won,” Mila whispered, touching his arm.

Yuri looked away.He was sure too.He knew he had won, which meant he had qualified for the first round of the ICC.So why didn’t it feel like a victory?

***

Yuuri was asleep, and Viktor was reasonably sure it was going to give him a heart attack.Yuuri was asleep in the car, and he was leaning against Viktor’s side, cheek pressed to Viktor’s shoulder, soft black hair brushing Viktor’s jaw.

Yuuri, Viktor, and Phichit were driving from New York to Boston for Yuuri’s competition that would allow him to enter the ICC.It was the first step on Yuuri’s journey to victory, and Viktor couldn’t have been more excited.

Viktor glanced up just in time to see Phichit watching him and Yuuri in the rearview mirror, and then the Thai man grinned and winked.Viktor blushed a little, but smiled back.Phichit had offered to drive, letting Viktor sit with Yuuri in the back, which Viktor was eternally grateful for, because otherwise he wouldn’t have the blessing of Yuuri snuggled up to his side.Viktor was nearly certain that Phichit knew about his crush on Yuuri, if the amount of winks and sly grins and pointed comments was any indication.

The Thai man had grown progressively friendlier since Viktor had arrived in New York, almost three months ago, having realized that Viktor wasn’t a threat against his friend.Yuuri still seemed oblivious to Viktor’s affections, and Viktor hadn’t decided how that made him feel.On the one hand, it would have been mortifying to find out that Yuuri didn’t feel the same, or was uncomfortable being admired by another man, but Viktor wasn’t exactly subtle with his flirtations, so it made him wonder how much further he would have to go to make it clear to Yuuri that he was interested in a romantic relationship.He almost always called Yuuri “Yuura” now, occasionally throwing in other endearments in his own language.How more obvious could he be?

Yuuri stirred against Viktor’s side, mumbling something in Japanese in his sleep, and Viktor couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips.Yuuri had absolutely no idea how adorable he was.Before he could stop himself, Viktor put an arm around Yuuri, pulling him a little closer.Ignoring Phichit’s smirk in the mirror, Viktor exhaled softly when Yuuri nuzzled his chest before settling.

“We’re about half an hour out,” Phichit said in a low voice before mumbling several Thai curses at the Boston traffic.“How are you holding up?”

“Good,” Viktor replied at the same volume.“Perfect.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Phichit snickered, and then sobered.“Viktor, you realize Yuuri will probably want to share a bed with me,” he said in a soft voice.Viktor nodded reluctantly.Because the competition was first thing in the morning the next day, they had decided to get a hotel room over night.Unfortunately, the room they had been able to get had two queen beds, which meant two people would have to share.

“Of course,” Viktor said, fighting disappointment.“You’re his roommate, and his best friend.It makes logical sense.”

Phichit’s eyes darted up to meet his in the mirror.He cleared his throat, and then said softly, “There’s, ah… there's nothing between us.Romantically, I mean.He hasn’t dated in a while.”

Viktor looked out the window, cheeks flushed.Knowing theoretically that Phichit suspected his crush, and having Phichit actually say something about it, were two completely different things.“Um… thanks,” Viktor murmured.

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“And just so you know, I ship it.”

Viktor blinked.“Sorry?What do boats have to do with anything?”

Phichit chuckled, shaking his head.“American slang,” he explained.“I’ve picked it up faster than Yuuri.”

At the sound of his name, Yuuri shifted again, and then mumbled something as his eyelashes fluttered.Viktor sighed as Yuuri’s eyes opened, still soft and open with sleep, and he blinked up at Viktor for a moment before jerking away with a yelp.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Viktor!” Yuuri exclaimed, going red.

Viktor laughed, putting his hands in his lap and lacing his fingers together so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and gather Yuuri into his arms again.“It’s fine,” he promised.“I didn’t mind.”

Yuuri covered his face.“How long was I asleep?” he asked.

“About two hours,” Phichit said cheerily.“We’re almost there.”

Yuuri groaned.“I’m so sorry,” he said again.“Viktor, you could have pushed me off!”

“I promise you, I didn’t mind,” Viktor insisted.He smiled at Yuuri.“You’re cute when you sleep.Did you know you talk?”

“Oh, god, what did I say?” Yuuri asked, looking horrified.

Viktor shrugged.“It was in Japanese,” he said.“Still cute, though.” Yuuri just buried his face in his hands again and groaned.

“Oh, look, we’re off the highway,” Phichit said brightly, changing the subject.Viktor watched with interest as the buildings slid by in the dusky light.Boston was a very different city than New York; it had a different feel.

“Here we are,” Phichit said after about fifteen minutes of silence, pulling the car into a garage.

“Here we are,” Yuuri agreed.“Do you have a pass or something?”

“We have to pay for a night,” Phichit said.

“Have either of you been to Boston before?” Viktor asked.

Phichit nodded.“Yeah, I lived here for two years when I was still in high school, before moving to New York when I was a junior,” he said.“I have relatives living here.Maybe I’ll visit if I have the time.”

“I’ve been here for a few concerts, but not in a while, and never overnight,” Yuuri admitted.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stayed her either,” Viktor said with a smile.“Maybe we can sightsee.”

“There’s a lot of tourism to do about the American Revolution,” Phichit said.“I guess this was an important city.”He pulled into a space and turned off the car.“I’ll go buy a parking pass,” he said.“This garage is under our hotel, do you guys want to go check in?”

“Sure,” Viktor said happily.“Come on, Yuuri.”He and Yuuri grabbed their overnight bags and Yuuri’s viola from the trunk before leaving the garage and making their way to the main entrance of the hotel.“I can do the talking if you’d like,” Viktor murmured as he and Yuuri approached the check in desk, and the Japanese man nodded.

“Thanks,” he replied softly.

The receptionist at the desk looked up as they approached.“How can I help you?” she said flatly.

“We have a room for tonight,” Viktor told her brightly.

She blinked slowly.“What’s your name?”

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor told her, a bit put out when he didn’t get a reaction.Yuuri threw him a sideways glance, looking amused, and Viktor blushed.He was apparently somewhat transparent.

“We don’t have any rooms under the name Viktor Nikiforov,” the receptionist said, looking up from her computer.

Viktor frowned, and then Yuuri pulled at his arm.“I think Phichit made the reservation,” he said quietly.

Viktor nodded, and then said to the receptionist, “Can you look under Phichit Chulanont?”

“Can you spell that for me?” she returned.Viktor paused.He wasn’t actually sure if he knew how to spell Phichit’s name. Luckily, Yuuri came to the rescue, stepping forward and spelling Phichit’s name in a soft voice.

The woman typed it into her computer and nodded.“One room for Chulanont booked for one night.”She rummaged around, and then pulled out two plastic keycards, placing them on the counter.“Our room service is twenty four hour, complementary breakfast served from eight to nine thirty, call the desk if you have any issues.”

“Um… would it be possible to have three room keys?” Yuuri asked anxiously, shifting his viola case to his other hand.

The receptionist gave him a long look, but pulled another keycard out.“What’s the case for?” she asked.

“Oh!” Yuuri said, looking down shyly.“I’m a musician.I’m playing in a concert tomorrow.”

The receptionist nodded.“My daughter plays the violin too,” she said.

Yuuri blinked.“Oh, um, it’s a viola,” he said.

The receptionist waved a dismissive hand.“Same thing, right?”

Yuuri flushed looking down, and Viktor jumped in.“It’s not actually,” he said sharply, narrowing his eyes at the woman who had upset Yuuri.“A viola is slightly bigger, which changes the tonal quality, and has a different range that some would argue make it more versatile than the violin.There’s also more _subtle_ differences, nuances that only a musician would understand.”

The receptionist blinked in surprise, but before she could say anything Viktor scooped the keycards off the desk and said with a fake smile, “Have a nice day.”He grabbed Yuuri’s hand and led him away.

“That was… surprising,” Yuuri muttered once they were out of earshot.Viktor glanced down to see that he and Yuuri were still holding hands, and made the conscious decision not to let go.

“I revel in being surprising,” Viktor said with a bright smile.

Yuuri blushed, looking down as his bangs fell over his eyes.“Let’s go wait for Phichit by the elevators,” he mumbled.

Viktor smiled again, this time the special, gentle smile he reserved for Yuuri.“Alright.”

They had barely reached the elevator when Phichit hurried up, overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a wide grin on his face.“Ready?” he said.“Did you check in all right?I forgot to tell you that I gave them my name.”

“We were fine,” Viktor told him, pushing the button for the elevator.“Yuuri had to spell it, but other than that there weren’t any issues.”

Phichit chuckled as they stepped into the elevator.“Yeah, for some reason that happens a lot,” he said.“I’m starting to think that Americans aren’t very good spellers.”

“I mean, I didn’t know how to spell Phichit Chulanont before I met you, either,” Yuuri pointed out.

Phichit shrugged.“Details.”They got off on the fourth floor, and Phichit asked, “What’s our room number?”

Viktor handed him one of the key cards.“Here,” he said.“We got three.”

“Awesome,” Phichit said approvingly,He led the way down the hall to their room, and swiped the keycard before opening the door.

“It’s… smaller than I expected,” Viktor admitted as they entered and turned on the light.

Phichit shrugged as Yuuri came in last, closing the door behind him.“It’s only for a night.”

Viktor smiled reassuringly.“Oh, I know.”

“Which bed do you want, Viktor?” Yuuri asked.“I’ll share with Phichit.”

Viktor didn’t let his smile slip.“Either works,” he chirped.“I’m going to use the bathroom.”

“I’ll order something small from room service,” Phichit added, tossing his bag on one of the beds.Viktor smiled, and slipped into the small bathroom, closing the door behind him.

When he came out a few minutes later, Phichit was sitting on one of the beds scrolling through his phone, and Yuuri was lying next to him with his eyes closed, knees curled up to his chest.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” Viktor teased, nudging Yuuri before sitting on his own bed.

“I’m jet lagged,” Yuuri mumbled without opening his eyes.

Phichit snorted.“Yuuri, we drove from New York to Boston.It’s the same time zone, and we didn't fly anywhere.”

Yuuri made a muffled noise of complaint, shoving his face into a pillow.“I need to get sleep now,” Viktor thought he heard Yuuri mumble.“I need to win my competition.”

***

Viktor was the first one awake the next morning, fumbling with the alarm he had set.He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning before raking his fingers through his hair.It was odd to wake up in an empty bed; Makkachin usually ended up in his bed at some point at home, so it was odd to sleep without a warm, fluffy poodle to cuddle with.

More awake, Viktor glanced over to see that Phichit and Yuuri were still asleep, Yuuri curled up into a ball and Phichit sprawled out over more than half the bed.Viktor smiled fondly before getting out of bed and staggering into the bathroom for a shower.The competition was early, starting at nine, and Yuuri was the second person to play.

Viktor finished his quick shower, dressed, and wandered back out of the bathroom to see Phichit gone and Yuuri making the bed, still in his pajamas.“Good morning, Viktor,” he said with a small smile, looking up.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Viktor replied, trying not to stare at how cute Yuuri looked in his (undoubtably soft) flannel pajama pants, or how his shirt rode up when he smoothed the covers.“Where’s Phichit?”

“He went to get food,” Yuuri said.“We’re hoping to leave by eight, is that alright?”

Viktor nodded.“The bathroom is all yours,” he told Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled gratefully.“Thanks.”He disappeared into the bathroom and a moment later the shower started running.Viktor plopped down into his unmade bed and turned on his phone.To his surprise, he had two texts from Yuri.

 

**Yura <3 [4:02]**

Tell Katsuki good luck in his competition

 

**Yura <3 [4:11]**

He’d better qualify.So I can kick his ass in the finals

 

Viktor smiled.Leave it to Yuri to wish Yuuri luck in the rudest and most abrasive way possible.

 

**You [7:17]**

Thanks Yura!!! <3 I’ll tell him!!! :) Congrats again on your own win!!! :) :) :)

 

As expected, Yuri didn’t answer.

The shower turned off and a few minutes later Yuuri emerged from the bathroom.Viktor barely stopped his jaw from dropping.Yuuri looked incredible, hair slicked back, contacts in, already dressed in a white shirt and dress pants for his competition performance.This Yuuri was a far cry from the nervous, cuddly, adorable Yuuri Viktor had gotten used to.This Yuuri was _sexy_.

Yuuri blinked in confusion at Viktor, who probably had an awestruck expression on his face.“Viktor?” he said uncertainly, but before Viktor could babble out something about how incredible Yuuri looked, Phichit burst into the hotel room with a bag of pastries and a take out tray of drinks from Starbucks.

“I have breakfast!” he yelled, and then winked teasingly at Yuuri.“Lookin’ good, Katsuki.” Yuuri just flushed and mumbled something in Japanese, taking his cup of tea from his friend.

They scarfed down breakfast and then Phichit went to take a quick shower while Yuuri paced in circles around the room.“You’re going to do great, Yuura,” Viktor said reassuringly after Yuuri made his tenth circuit of the room.

“But what if I don’t?” Yuuri whispered, eyes wide.Viktor noticed his hands were trembling.

“Come here,” he said, patting the space beside him on the bed.Yuuri complied, sitting next to Viktor and chewing on his lip so hard he drew blood.“You have nothing to worry about,” Viktor promised.“You are more than prepared for this audition.You’ve been practicing, and this is a piece you can play with plenty of emotion.You’re going to be just fine, Yuuri, I promise.”

Yuuri looked down at his hands.“But what if I don’t?” he said again.“Then I’ll have wasted four months of your life, Viktor.”

Viktor gave him a stern look.“What have I told you, Yuura?” he said.“Not once have I felt like you were wasting my time.To come teach you was a decision _I_ made, and I haven’t regretted it once.”

Yuuri looked up at him shyly.“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Viktor confirmed, taking his hand.Yuuri glanced up in surprise, and suddenly Viktor realized how close they were.Shoulder to shoulder, legs pressed against each other, Viktor’s face was only an inch or two from Yuuri’s.Yuuri looked at him with deep, trusting brown eyes, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead, cheeks pinked, and Viktor couldn’t help but exhale slowly at how gorgeous the other man was.Before he could help himself, Viktor’s gaze darted down to Yuuri’s lips before returning to his wide eyes.

Yuuri stared at him, and then breathed, “Viktor…”Viktor hesitated a minute before leaning in.Yuuri didn’t lean away, and his eyes fluttered closed.

Just before their lips met, the bathroom door opened and Phichit walked into the main part of the hotel room before freezing.Yuuri yelped and jerked away, almost tumbling off the bed if not for Viktor’s grip on his hand.

“Holy shit!” Phichit exclaimed, eyes wide.“Oh my god, sorry!I can just uh…” he glanced over his shoulder to the bathroom.“I can just go back in there for a little.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Yuuri mumbled.He crawled off the bed, face flushed and refusing to look at Viktor.“We need to go shortly.”

Phichit threw Viktor an apologetic look.“Right.OK.”

Viktor sighed in quiet disappointment, but slid off the bed and gathered what he might need for the competition in a small bag.Yuuri picked up his viola, fiddling with the clasps, and stood awkwardly by the door while he waited for them to be ready.There were so many things Viktor wanted to say, confessions and apologies and promises and questions, but with Phichit in the room none of the right words came out.

The ride to the competition venue was in awkward silence.Viktor couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn't make Yuuri uncomfortable, Phichit looked a little anxious, and Yuuri was clearly on the edge of a nervous breakdown.Once they got to the venue and parked, Viktor pulled Yuuri aside while Phichit very slowly got their things out of the car and pretended not to eavesdrop.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said seriously, putting both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders.“You’re going to do well.You’re overthinking this.”

“I’m going to choke, Viktor,” Yuuri admitted in a strangled whisper, face more pale than usual.“Oh, god, I’m going to forget how to play the piece, or drop my viola, or-”

“No, you’re not,” Viktor said calmly.“You are going to play well.  Haven't we established that I'm not a liar?”

Yuuri swallowed.“Y-yes.”

Viktor gave him a small smile.“Then you’re going to do great.Trust me.Just breathe deeply and lose yourself in the music, alright?”Yuuri nodded.

“Ready?” Phichit asked with a nervous smile.Yuuri swallowed hard, but nodded.Viktor slid an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, and the Japanese man didn’t shrug him off as they walked into the concert venue and followed the signs to the staging area.

“Since you’re second, you’ll be waiting in the wings until your performance,” Viktor whispered.“Do you want us to stay with you?”

“Please,” Yuuri breathed.

They found their way to the room where several other musicians were already unpacking and tuning their instruments.Viktor watched worriedly as Yuuri took out his viola and tuned it with trembling fingers before tightening his bow and playing several scales in rapid succession.

“I’m not sure if I’m allowed to be in the wings during Yuuri’s performance,” Phichit said quietly to Viktor.“But I’m gonna pretend I have clearance or whatever anyway, and you’re going to back me up.Got it?”

“Of course,” Viktor said with a nod, and then glanced back at Yuuri.The violist was kneeling on the round by his case with his head bowed, fingers flying over the strings.Viktor recognized note sequences both from Ketty’s piece, and the piece he was playing in this competition, a Stamitz Viola Concerto.

“He’s always like this before performances,” Phichit murmured.“He gets himself so worked up, and then afterwords freaks out over nonexistent or minor mistakes.He’s too hard on himself.”

“He is,” Viktor agreed in a low voice, eyes never leaving Yuuri.

He and Phichit waited in silence for about half an hour as they watched Yuuri practice, a motionless oasis in the crowded, busy warm up room, before a coordinator for the competition called everyone to attention.“Everyone but the first two performers and their teachers find a seat outside the concert hall,” she called out, and then looked down at her clipboard.“Michaela Petersen up first, Katsuki Yuuri on deck.”

Yuuri slowly got to his feet as the room emptied around them, visibly shaking.

“Yuuri,” Phichit said quietly, and then threw his arms around his friend.Yuuri closed his eyes and buried his face in his friend’s shoulder.His shaking slowly stopped.“Come on,” Phichit said, finally letting go.“Don’t you want to see the first musician perform?”

Yuuri nodded jerkily, jaw clenched.Phichit tugged his friend out of the warm up room and down the short hallway to the back of the stage, Viktor trailing behind.

They found their designated place in the wings just as the house lights lowered and Michaela Petersen walked on stage to eager applause.She lifted her flute to her lips, and the audience fell silent.Viktor put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, hoping it would be a calming touch.Yuuri leaned into his touch a little as Michaela began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rv3Vb465L3I%20), a light, airy classical piece from the sound of it.Viktor waited, barely listening to the music, more anxious than he normally was for his own performances, before Michaela finished proudly and got a standing ovation.

“Oh, god,” Yuuri whispered, barely audible over the sound of the audience.

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” Viktor murmured in Yuuri’s ear.Yuuri swallowed hard.Viktor turned him around and pulled him into a hug.Yuuri stiffened for a split second before relaxing and melting into Viktor’s arms.

“Play it for them just like you play it for me,” Viktor breathed, drinking in Yuuri’s warmth and calming his trembling.“I won’t take my eyes off you.”

Yuuri nodded when Viktor let go.“Next is Katsuki Yuuri, playing Stamitz’s Viola Concerto in D Minor,” someone on stage announced, and Yuuri inhaled slowly.

“That’s me,” he mumbled, and then gave Phichit and Viktor one last wan smile before walking on stage.The audience quieted as Yuuri took his position centerstage and lifted his instrument, looking to the conductor.There was a weightless, frozen moment of silence, and then the orchestra began to[ play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwHXdjC13Lc%20).

There was a fairly long orchestral introduction before Yuuri’s solo, and Viktor could see Yuuri silently mouthing as he counted measures, cue rapidly approaching.Viktor found himself unconsciously tapping his leg with a finger, conducting along with the orchestra, and had to grab his hand to stop.Yuuri straightened as the measures counted down, and then put his bow on the strings and closed his eyes.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat as the first chord of Yuuri’s solo rang out clear and low before seamlessly transitioning into a slur that led to another chord and slur, climbing higher before dropping.Viktor watched wide eyed as Yuuri skillfully fingered notes in rapid succession, swaying slightly in time with the music, the dulcet tones of his music smooth and clean and passionate.He coaxed the music out of his instrument, playing every note with precision while making it look simple and effortless.

The music flowed around Viktor, notes weaving in and out of each other as Yuuri painted a picture with his music, longing and bright and quick without being frantic.His performance was nearly flawless, only a few technical mistakes in the higher registers, most of which were mostly covered up by the accompaniment.

The music soared into the final lines, ending with triumphant chords from the orchestra that faded into silence.Yuuri stood motionless for a moment before slowly lowering his viola, face void of expression.The audience burst into thunderous applause, and even without seeing them Viktor knew they were all on ther feet, clapping for Yuuri.

Phichit clapped wildly, and let out several wolf whistles.Yuuri took a bow, a little flushed, and walked purposefully offstage.

“How did I do?” he asked breathlessly, pushing his hair away from his face.

Phichit whooped, and flung his arms around Yuuri.“You were amazing!” he yelled.“You won for sure!”

“Don’t you think that’s a little soon?” Yuuri chuckled, hugging his friend back despite the viola in his hand.He met Viktor’s eyes.“Did I, um… Did I do alright?”

Phichit let go of Yuuri and stepped back, sensing the mood.Viktor stepped forward until he and Yuuri were less than an inch apart.

“Viktor?” Yuuri whispered, looking up at Viktor.The Russian man swallowed, a million words on the tip of his tongue but none sufficient enough to explain just how amazing he thought Yuuri was.

So instead, Viktor leaned in and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I had no idea Mila was going to show up until she sat down next to Yurio. Also, Yakov comes off as an asshole, but he knows that Yurio would hate himself if he gave up his dream of winning the ICC, so he's looking out for yurio's wellbeing in the long run.
> 
> And if your name is Michaela Petersen, you won an unintentional cameo!
> 
> That's all for now! Next chapter will be up on SATURDAY AUGUST 19TH. Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/). See you then, and have a terrific day, dear reader!


	8. Are You Sure?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which important conversations are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically pure fluff with a little bit of plot sprinkled in. I regret nothing. Also, I've never competed in a high-caliber competition for solo musicians, so this is probably completely inaccurate but I like it, so... enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuuri was half-certain he had died and gone to heaven after his performance, because that was the only reasonable explanation he could think of for why _Viktor Nikiforov_ would be kissing him.

Viktor’s lips were softer than Yuuri would have expected, and tasted like mint toothpaste and the sugary coffee he had gotten from Starbucks earlier.Yuuri exhaled with soft surprise, eyes wide, and Viktor kissed him for another few seconds before pulling away.

“Yuuri…” he said quietly, a strange vulnerability in his eyes.“Was… was that alright?” Viktor asked uncertainly.

Yuuri stared at him unblinkingly, trying to get his thoughts in order.Viktor had kissed him.Viktor had just _kissed_ him.Voluntarily.On the mouth.With his mouth.

Viktor’s face fell.“I… sorry,” he muttered, looking down.“I…  I thought maybe...”

Without looking away from Viktor, Yuuri held out his viola and bow.Phichit took them from him with a smirk.Yuuri stepped forward so that he was nose to nose with Viktor, and then in an unexpected fit of confidence cupped the other man’s face and kissed him.Viktor flinched in surprise and then relaxed, putting an arm around Yuuri’s waist and kissing him back.After a long moment, Viktor pulled away.

“I guess that means it was alright?” he said, giving Yuuri a hopeful look.

Yuuri nodded, smiling shyly.“It’s alright,” he replied.“It’s more than alright.”

Viktor gave Yuuri a brilliant, beautiful smile and leaned in for another kiss, but before their lips met someone cleared their throat loudly.Yuuri jumped back, embarrassed.He had forgotten he and Viktor were in a public place.

Phichit stood awkwardly to the side, holding Yuuri’s viola and studiously eyeing the rafters above them.“Sorry to break up this little love fest,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.“But we’re not supposed to be here anymore.The third musician is almost finished.”

Yuuri glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide, to see that the musician performing after him was nearing the end of his piece.“Sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down.

“Let’s go find seats,” Viktor said, and then turned to Phichit.“Is Yuuri supposed to put away his instrument?”

Phichit shrugged.“Hell if I know," he admitted, and then held it out.“Here.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said softly, taking his instrument.

Phichit flashed him a grin.“No problem, my friend.Come on.”He beckoned Yuuri and Viktor out of the wings, where they had been getting some strange looks, and into the short hallway in the back of the concert hall.

“Where are we supposed to go?” Yuuri whispered.

Phichit shrugged.“I'm not sure musicians have reserved seats.  We might have to BS our way in.”

“I’m Viktor Nikiforov,” Viktor told them, as if that solved all their problems.

Phichit rolled his eyes.“Thanks.Helpful.”

“I thought it was remarkably helpful,” Viktor added with a sage nod.

Phichit shook his head wordlessly, clearly exasperated.He glanced around, and then led them through a door on the side, which led into a small alcove on the side of the concert hall.“This is good, right?” he whispered.“We can see from here.”

Yuuri nodded, watching as the fourth musician walked on stage with his trumpet and prepared to play.“How many people are playing today?” he asked.“The warm up room seemed really crowded.”

“In this competition, there’s ten musicians,” Phichit whispered back.“But there’s another one right after this for younger people.High schoolers, middle schoolers.Kids.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.“You say that like you aren’t fresh out of high school yourself,” he whispered teasingly.

“Shut the hell up, I’m a junior in college,” Phichit hissed, elbowing Yuuri in the side.

On Yuuri’s left, Viktor sent them an amused smile.Yuuri blushed, unable to look away from Viktor’s lips.He had kissed those lips.As if he knew what Yuuri was thinking about, Viktor gave him a tiny smirk, and then winked.It seemed his confidence was back, full-force.Yuuri knew he was probably bright red, based on the heat flooding his face, but thankfully neither Viktor nor Phichit said anything about it.

After the fourth musician finished and bowed, Phichit settled himself on the floor, crossing his legs before looking up at Yuuri.“It’s going to be awhile,” he said.“And this is more comfortable than standing for hours.Come on, no one’s going to step on you.”

“OK,” Yuuri mumbled, sitting down next to Phichit and cradling his viola in his lap.Not to be left out, Viktor sat down very close to Yuuri, knee brushing Yuuri’s thigh.Yuuri was nearly sure it was intentional.

They sat in silence as the fifth musician went on stage, but in the middle of her piece Viktor’s hand inched towards Yuuri until he was cupping Yuuri’s palm.Yuuri glanced at the Russian man, startled, but Viktor was watching the stage with the slightest smile as he laced his fingers together with Yuuri’s.Phichit muffled a snicker.Yuuri didn’t pull away, and the small smile on Viktor’s face grew as he tightened his grip a little and swept his thumb over the back of Yuuri’s hand.Yuuri struggled with a smile that threatened to take over his face.

The three sat like that for what seemed like a long time, watching the other musicians perform with varying degrees of success.After each talented performance, Viktor would whisper to Yuuri exactly what he had done that made him better than the other competitors.Yuuri knew Viktor probably wasn’t being serious, but the boost to his confidence every time Viktor complimented him wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Finally, the tenth and last musician finished their piece, bowed, and walked offstage to the applause of the audience, and the coordinator of the competition walked on and stood in front of the orchestra.“We will now take a fifteen minute intermission to tally up the scores for each musician,” she announced.“Then we will announce the winners.”As she walked off the house lights brightened, and the audience shifted into motion.

“Well,” Phichit said, getting to his feet.“I’m got to find the men’s room and take care of some business.Feel free to stay here.”

Yuuri nodded, looking down and blushing.Maybe Phichit really did have to use the bathroom, but Yuuri knew most of the reason his friend was leaving was to give Viktor and Yuuri a chance to be alone.

Viktor waited until Phichit was gone, and then gathered Yuuri into his arms.Yuuri couldn’t help but relax and sigh contentedly as Viktor’s arms settled around him, and Viktor buried his face in Yuuri’s neck.He knew they would have to talk eventually, talk about why Viktor had kissed him and what that made them, but for now Yuuri just wanted to enjoy it.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered.

“Mm?” Yuuri murmured in return.

“Yuuri, can I kiss you?” Viktor asked, sounding almost… shy.Instead of replying, Yuuri turned his head and gently pressed his lips to Viktor’s in a shy kiss.Viktor smiled and kissed him back for a moment before muttering against Yuuri’s lips, “You’re sure this is OK?”

“Yes,” Yuuri breathed, and Viktor could barely kiss him for smiling.

They traded gentle kisses and small, wordless smiles for the next fifteen minutes, until Phichit wandered back just as the house lights blinked, warning everyone to get back to their seats.“I can see you two have been busy,” Phichit said with a smirk, sitting down next to Yuuri.Yuuri blushed despite himself.He knew that his lips were probably a little kiss stung, and his hair was a little disheveled from when Viktor had gently run his fingers through it, and Viktor still hadn’t let go of him, but he hadn’t thought it was _that_ obvious.

“Sorry, Yuuri,” Phichit said with a pitying smile.“It’s pretty damn clear what you two have been doing for the last fifteen minutes.”

“That’s OK,” Viktor said cheerfully, pulling Yuuri closed and nuzzling his cheek.“Now everyone can know you’re mine.”

“Viktor!” Yuuri exclaimed, shocked.

Phichit disguised a laugh with a cough.“I don’t know if the possessive streak is endearing, or a little disturbing,” he said thoughtfully.

“Everything about me is endearing,” Viktor proclaimed haughtily.

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“Yeah, especially that modesty,” he teased, and Viktor gave an overdramatic gasp.

“I am the epitome of modesty,” he said, lifting his chin.Phichit raised an eyebrow, but before he could comment on Viktor’s supposed modesty Yuuri elbowed him in the side.

“Hush,” he whispered, gesturing to the stage, where the competition coordinator stood.

Phichit turned his attention to the stage as the coordinator said, “Can the ten musicians who performed this morning please make their way to the stage?”

“Go ahead, Yuuri,” Phichit whispered, nudging Yuuri’s shoulder.“I can hold on to your viola.”Yuuri handed his instrument to his friend, who took it carefully.

Viktor gave Yuuri a small kiss on the corner of the mouth, and then let go of his hand.“Good luck, Yuura,” he whispered.

Yuuri smiled nervously and made his way towards the stage, walking up a set of stairs on the side to join the other musicians.The coordinator flashed them all a smile before turning back to the audience.“First, I’d like to say that the judges were very impressed with each and every musician who competed today,” she said.“You all performed fabulously.”

There was polite applause from the audience, but it was clear that everyone wanted to know who won, to alleviate the suspense that hung thick in the air.Yuuri took a deep, gulping breath before clamping his mouth shut, clenching his fists and hiding them behind his back.He felt sick, stomach churning with nerves, and he was scared that if he opened his mouth too wide he would throw up.His palms were clammy, and a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face under the hot stage lights.

The coordinator paused dramatically, and then said, “However, some of you performed with distinction even beyond your talented peers.Today we’re going to award third, second, and first place to those musicians that really stood out.”She cleared her throat, and then said, “In third place… Taylor Schmidt.” Taylor Schmidt stepped forward slightly and bowed to thundering applause.

The coordinator smiled, waited for the audience to quiet, and then said, “In second… Jenna Hart.”Jenna Hart grinned widely and flipped her hair over her shoulder before bowing.

The audience hushed again, and the coordinator cracked her knuckles before saying, “And last but not least, in first place by a margin of several points…”She stopped, looking over the ten musicians.

Yuuri’s stomach dropped.He might have had a chance of winning, but there was no way he could have done it by several points.And since they had already named the second and third place winners, that meant Yuuri had come in fourth, or even below that.He hadn’t won, which meant he had lost his ticket to the ICC.The whole thing was over before it could even begin.Yuuri held his breath to prevent himself from hyperventilating.His entire body thrummed with tension, and he was sure he was visibly trembling.He flinched unconsciously when the coordinator’s gaze flickered over him without an ounce of recognition in her eyes.She didn’t even look at him.That clinched it.Oh, god, that meant he had lost. 

“Katsuki Yuuri.”

There was a beat of silence, and then the audience burst into applause.Yuuri’s jaw dropped, and he stood frozen.One of the musicians next to him gave him a little shove in the back, and Yuuri stumbled forward into a bow.

The competition coordinator shook his hand.“Lovely job,” she said.

“Th-thank you,” Yuuri stammered, eyes wide.He had _won._ He had actually _won._ Yuuri thought he heard someone whoop in the audience, someone who sounded suspiciously like Phichit, and when Yuuri squinted he thought he saw a flash of Viktor’s silver hair.Yuuri tried to process what was happening as he was congratulated by a few other people and flowers were shoved into his hands.He had _won._ Which meant he had a chance at the ICC.Maybe Viktor had been a little right.Maybe Yuuri hadn’t been completely wasting the other's time.

As soon as he was shown off the stage, Phichit and Viktor mobbed him, Phichit squealing and Viktor babbling in excited Russian.Yuuri couldn’t stop smiling.

“I told you, Yuura, I told you you could do it,” Viktor said, finally slipping into English.

“You won!By a lot!” Phichit added.

“Thanks to you,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down.

Phichit handed Yuuri’s viola to Viktor, and then slung his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.“You deserved it,” he said, and then glanced at Viktor.“Is there anything else here we need to do here?” he asked.

Viktor shook his head.“I don’t think so,” he said.“Yuuri won.I don’t think we have any other obligation here.”

“There’s no one we have to talk to?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor shook his head.“Not that I know of,” he said.“Everything is done online these days.  Come on, let’s pack up your instrument.”

“And then we can get something to eat,” Phichit added hungrily.“My stomach is eating itself.”

“Lovely description,” Viktor said, looking completely sincere.Yuuri sighed in fond exasperation.He was riding high on his victory, weightless.He hadn’t been this content in a while.

Viktor planted a kiss on Yuuri’s lips, and then handed him his viola.“I'm proud of you, Yuura,” he murmured.Yuuri blushed a little.“But we’ll have to work hard if you’re going to win the ICC!” Viktor added blithely, and Yuuri nodded.The competition he had won, while prestigious, was small compared to the international events during the ICC.He would have to up his game considerably if he even stood a chance at getting into the finals.

“You know, Christmas is coming up,” Phichit said thoughtfully as he wandered down the hall towards the room Yuuri had left his case in.

“It is,” Viktor agreed in a neutral voice.

Yuuri glanced sideways at him.“That’s your birthday, isn’t it?” he checked.

Viktor glanced sideways at him.“You knew that?”

“Yuuri, your fanboy is showing,” Phichit hissed in an exaggerated whisper.

Yuuri went red as Viktor grinned at him.“I had no idea you were such a fan, Yuuri,” he teased, letting his hand linger on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Oh, you should see his room,” Phichit said sagely.“It’s basically a shrine to you.”

“Phichit!” Yuuri whined, covering his eyes.“Have you no shame?”

Phichit just chuckled.“I have no issue outing you about this after you spent fifteen minutes making out,” he said bluntly.

“Don’t worry, Yuura,” Viktor cooed.“I think it’s adorable.”He pecked Yuuri on the cheek.Yuuri was quickly learning that Viktor’s physical affection extended to kissing as well.Hopefully he would get used to it.

“Yuura,” Viktor added slyly as they reached the warm up room.“Can I see your room when we get back to New York?”

Yuuri choked, and then ignored the question as he knelt on the ground by his case.Phichit sounded like he was trying to muffle his giggles, and without looking Yuuri was fairly sure Viktor was smirking.Yuuri carefully put away his viola, and then stood and faced them."Back to the hotel?" he asked.

Phichit opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by the competition coordinator."Mr. Katsuki," she said with a smile, strolling up."I was afraid I'd missed you.Here."She handed him a certificate on thick, cream colored paper.

Yuuri glanced down to see his name embossed in fancy print, along with the name of the competition and some other details, including his instrument, the date, and his score.

"I know it's not a trophy or a medal," the coordinator said with a smile."But we thought it would be nice to have something to commemorate this event."

"Thank you," Yuuri said with a small smile, cheeks pink."I really appreciate it."

"You should frame it and hang it in the living room, Yuuri," Phichit said, and Yuuri wasn't completely sure his friend was joking.

"Can I photocopy it and hang the copy next to my poster?" Viktor added, grinning.

The competition coordinator glanced at him and then she took a double take, clearly recognizing him."You're Viktor Nikiforov," she gasped.

Viktor smiled indulgently."I am.It's a pleasure to meet you."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Viktor was good at hiding his emotions, but Yuuri was also good at reading the Russian man, after spending hours every day for four months in his presence; he could tell when Viktor's smile turned forced.The violinist held up his left hand and gestured regretfully to the brace."I'm out of competition for this year," he said lightly, and Yuuri was sure only he and Phichit caught the bitterness."I'm here to support Yuuri," Viktor added, giving Yuuri a sincere smile.

The coordinator blinked, and then nodded."It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Nikiforov," she said, and then turned back to Yuuri."And congratulations again, Mr. Katsuki.You deserve it."

"Thank you," Yuuri murmured.

Phichit waited until she was out of earshot before exclaiming jokingly, "I'm starting to feel a little left out, here.You two get recognized right and left, and so far the only person who knows who I am is Yuri Plisetsky."

Yuuri pressed his lips together.Phichit acted like he was joking, but Yuuri could tell his friend was a little hurt not to have even been acknowledged.Somehow, Viktor seemed to pick up on it too."Don't say that like its nothing," he said with a smile."Yura is very particular to who he talks to.He only acknowledges people he respects."The Russian man frowned."Come to think, he didn't even talk to me for about two months after we met.Do you think-"

"So, lunch," Yuuri interrupted.

Phichit nodded."Right."He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, and then said, "Yuuri, I texted my relatives in Boston earlier, and they invited me over for lunch.You two are welcome to come too, but I thought you might like some, uh... Alone time.With Viktor."

Yuuri blinked, but before he could even begin to figure out what Phichit meant by that Viktor said, "Are you sure, Phichit?"

Phichit grinned."Yeah, of course.I haven't seen my cousins in a year.I don't feel like I'm being abandoned, I swear."

Yuuri's eyes widened."Phichit, I don't want to abandon you!" he exclaimed.

Phichit laughed, seemingly amused by the horrified expression on his face."I'm not being abandoned, Yuuri," he said again."I don't want to third wheel, and I haven't seen my family in a while.Even if every time I visit my aunt still asks if I'm still in school to play the recorder."He made a face, and Viktor chuckled sympathetically."You two are free to go back to the hotel," Phichit said."I'll be back around three thirty, OK?I want to be on the road by four so we can get back to New York at a semi reasonable hour.And make sure you don't forget the car."

"Got it," Viktor said with a firm nod.Yuuri just stared, lost.Phichit smiled fondly, gave Yuuri one last hug, and then strolled out with his head held high.

Yuuri turned to Viktor. "What... just happened?I feel like we've been ditched."

Viktor shrugged."It's open to interpretation," he said, and then slung an arm around Yuuri's shoulder."That leaves you and me, Yuura.What do you want to do for lunch?"

Yuuri couldn't help but smile a little at Viktor, who smiled back."I saw a diner a little down the street," he said."Is that OK?"

Viktor kissed him on the cheek."Winner's choice," he said warmly.

"Alright, then," Yuuri said.He took a deep breath, and then reached out and grabbed Viktor's hand.

Viktor beamed at him, lacing their fingers together."Alright," he echoed.

Yuuri was sure he was blushing furiously as he and Viktor left the building, fingers tangled together, but Viktor didn't say anything until they reached the car.Yuuri put his viola in the trunk, and then climbed in the driver's seat.

Viktor reached across the central console and grabbed Yuuri's hand again."You're so cute when you blush," he said.Predictably, Yuuri blushed. 

***

It wasn't until they got back to the hotel that Yuuri gathered the courage to ask the answer to the one question that had been plaguing him.He and Viktor wandered up to their room after a quiet, companionable late lunch in a Boston diner, hand in hand again.Once they were in the room, Yuuri stored his viola in the closet again.

"I'd like to change," he said.

Viktor nodded."Go ahead," he said.

Yuuri grabbed a sweater and jeans from his overnight bag and went to change in the bathroom.After changing out of his concert attire, he came out into the main room to get his glasses so he could take out his contacts.This time, Viktor followed him into the bathroom.Yuuri put his glasses on the counter in the bathroom and pulled out his contact case and saline.Just as Yuuri was preparing to pinch out his right contact, Viktor slid his arms around Yuuri's waist and rested his chin on Yuuri's shoulder.

"Ah!" Yuuri exclaimed, jumping."Viktor, you can't _do_ that!Not while I'm taking out my contacts."Viktor pouted, but withdrew his arms, although he kept his chin hooked over Yuuri's shoulder.

"Your chin is sharp," Yuuri commented after taking out one contact, and then he flinched.Oh, God, why was he so awkward?Why couldn't he act like a normal person around Viktor? ...His long-time celebrity crush who he had liked for years and who had kissed him today and who was looking at him in the mirror with a soft expression in his eyes.

Luckily, Viktor didn't seem to take the chin comment as an insult, not that Yuuri had meant it as one."Thank you?" Viktor murmured.He pressed a gentle kiss to Yuuri's jaw.If Yuuri hadn't already taken out his second contact, he probably would have succeeded in poking his eye out.

"All done?" Viktor asked as Yuuri slid his glasses back on his nose and put his contacts away in his small pouch of toiletries. 

"Yeah," Yuuri replied, a little embarrassed at how breathy he sounded.

"Come on," Viktor said in an equally breathless voice.He slid a warm, comforting arm around Yuuri's waist, and Yuuri couldn't help but lean into the touch.Viktor led him over to one of the beds, the messy, unmade one that Yuuri knew was Viktor's.He sat down, and gently pulled Yuuri with him."So, Yuura," Viktor said, blue eyes clear and trained on Yuuri."What would you like to do for the next few hours?"

"Viktor, what are we?" Yuuri blurted.

Viktor glanced at him."What do you mean?" he asked.His fingers traced small circles on Yuuri's side on top of his sweater.

Yuuri licked his dry lips nervously."You kissed me," he said."What does that mean?What does that make us?"

Viktor leaned against him and rested his head on Yuuri's shoulder."Hm," he hummed."What do you want us to be?" 

Yuuri swallowed."I don't want to just be another fling," he said in a small voice."I don't think I could handle that.It would... It would break me."

"I don't want this to be a fling either," Viktor said unexpectedly."How does boyfriends sound?"

Yuuri jerked his head around to look at Viktor so fast he almost hit the other man in the face with his glasses. Viktor laughed.

"Really?" Yuuri asked.

"Really," Viktor confirmed, kissing him on the tip of the nose.

Yuuri blinked slowly."Are you sure?" he checked, giving Viktor one last chance to back out.

"Of course," Viktor said, sounding confused."Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"Because you're _you_ , and I'm _me_ ," Yuuri mumbled, ducking his chin.

Viktor exhaled slightly, not quite a sigh."Come here, Yuura," he said, and tugged Yuuri down until the were lying side by side on the bed, facing each other."I don't understand your argument," he said, slinging an arm over Yuuri's hips and pulling him into a hug on the bed.

Yuuri fixed his eyes on the collar of Viktor's shirt, unable to look the other man in the eye."You're a world famous violinist, widely acknowledged as one of the most talented musicians of our generation.You're rich, you're handsome, you're a genuinely amazing person.You could have anyone you wanted.Why should you settle for just me, a nobody violist from Japan?"

Viktor watched him with calm blue eyes until he was finished, and thensaid in a level, reasonable voice, "That's bullshit."

Yuuri stared at him."What?"

Viktor studied him, looking almost... angry."Is that what you think you are?" he said fiercely."You think you're a nobody?"

Yuuri looked up, confused."Um-"

Viktor chuckled affectionately and reached up with one hand to caress Yuuri's cheek."I know that you don't post much on your Instagram," he said with a fond smile."But you must be very inactive online if you don't know how big a fan base you have."

Yuuri stared at him."What?"

Viktor laughed."But your innocent fame isn't why I like you," he said quietly."At least not completely.Yuuri, you're a remarkably talented violist, and it makes me want to rip my hair out sometimes because you won't acknowledge how amazing you are."

"Don't rip your hair out," Yuri whispered, running his fingers through Viktor's hair before playing with his fringe, pushing it away from his eyes."You would look like even more of an old man."

Viktor blinked in surprise."Are you sassing me?" he said.

Yuuri smiled in what could have been interpreted as a smirk."Maybe."

Viktor laughed out loud."This is why I like you," he said."You're always surprising me.Yuura, you're so sweet, you're funny without meaning to be sometimes, you're scary smart, you're ridiculously talented, you're adorable and cuddly and innocent and cute, and God, in your concert attire you're probably one of the sexiest things I've ever seen...My point is, Yuuri, please don't talk about yourself like you couldn't possibly be worthy of me, because that's about the furthest thing from the truth."

Yuuri looked down, mortified.He had never been good at receiving compliments.It made him unbearably embarrassed, because he knew they weren't true."Viktor-"

"Shh," Viktor whispered, putting a finger to Yuuri's lips."No more talking.Phichit left us here alone for a reason.I'd like to put this time to good use."

He kissed Yuuri gently and Yuuri clumsily reciprocated after a moment.Viktor made a contented hum and brought one hand up to tangle his fingers in Yuuri's hair, leaving the other around Yuuri's waist to keep him close.Yuuri anxiously gripped Viktor's biceps, half afraid that Viktor would disappear if he dared let go.After a long kiss Viktor pulled away a little.

"You don't have to hold on _quite_ so hard," he laughed, flexing his bicep a little.Yuuri let go, flushing.Viktor gave him another peck on the lips, and then said, "I'm not going anywhere, Yuuri.Not unless you make me, and you'd have to try _very_ hard."

" Yeah?" Yuuri said shyly.

"Yeah," Viktor breathed, and leaned in to kiss Yuuri again.

Yuuri didn't know how much time passed until a soft knock came on the door.Viktor pulled away with a sigh."Any chance we can ignore it?" he said hopefully.

Yuuri smiled.Viktor looked disheveled, his silver hair ruffled from Yuuri's fingers, eyes wide and lips a little swollen from kissing, shirt rumpled.It made Yuuri feel unreasonably proud to know that _he_ had done that to Viktor."I'll get it," he said.

Viktor made a noise of complaint when Yuuri extricates himself from his boyfriend's arms, but sat up on the bed.Yuuri walked quickly across the room and opened the door.

Phichit leaned against the wall next to the door, scrolling through his phone.He looked up when Yuuri opened the door, and grinned."Hello, there, lover boy," he said teasingly.

Yuuri blinked at him."Did you forget your key?"

Phichit gave him a long look."I'm in college in New York, Yuuri, I've seen a lot of strange things," he said."But one of the things I _don't_ want to see is my best friend getting down and dirty with his boyfriend in the hotel room.I figured it would be good idea to knock."He gently nudged Yuuri and Yuuri stepped aside to let him in, eyes wide.Was _that_ what Phichit thought they had been doing?Was that why he had left them alone?

"I'm offended, Phichit," Viktor said in an affronted tone."I am a _gentleman_.I wait until the second date."

Yuuri covered his red cheeks with his hands.

Phichit just smirked."You two might want to comb your hair before we leave," he said.

Yuuri blushed harder, and hurried into the bathroom.Viktor swung his legs off the bed and followed, Phichit trailing behind.Yuuri sighed when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.He had what Phichit would call 'sex hair,' and it made him look unusually debauched.He had gelled back his hair for a competition, and then Viktor had thoroughly ruffled it by combing his fingers through it while they cuddled and made out.

"What time do you think we'll get back to the city?" Viktor asked as he ran his comb through his hair.

Phichit shrugged."Around ten, hopefully," he said."Why?"

Viktor smiled a little, making eye contact with Yuuri in the mirror."I'd like to submit Yuuri's registration for the ICC tonight, if possible," he said."I know they're not due until December tenth, which is still a few days from now, but I'd like to get it taken care of as soon as possible in case there are any problems."

"When do the final lists come out?" Phichit asked.Yuuri glanced questioningly at him in the mirror. "The list of the musicians who made it into the qualifiers," Phichit elaborated.

"December twentieth," Viktor answered."We'll know if Yuuri made it on December twentieth.”

***

The night before December twentieth, Yuuri couldn't sleep for all his nerves.Finally, around three in the morning, he gave up and wandered out into the kitchen for a glass of water.As he leaned against the counter to drink, he noticed flickering light from the TV in the living room, and wandered out to find Phichit settled on the couch, a movie playing silently while he scrolled through his phone. 

"Hey," Phichit said, glancing up with a nervous smile."You couldn't sleep either?"

"Too nervous," Yuuri grunted, flopping down on the couch next to his roommate.

"I know," Phichit said sympathetically."I feel like I'm going to throw up.I'm so nervous.What if neither of us make it?"

"You're sure to make it," Yuuri said reassuringly, nudging Phichit with his foot."I bet you've been in a while."

"You're going to make it too, Yuuri," Phichit said.

Yuuri sighed."I certainly hope so."

They were silent for a little while as Phichit flicked through selfie after selfie and Yuuri tried to figure out exactly what movie they were watching, until Phichit said softly, "Hey, Yuuri?"

Yuuri glanced at Phichit to see his friend biting his lip anxiously, eyes wide."What is it?" Yuuri asked.

Phichit turned off his phone and balanced it on his stomach."I would be really happy for you if you won the ICC," he said quietly, unable to look at Yuuri."But I... I'm not going to hold back.I want to win too, I'm not going to throw the contest."

Yuuri's eyes widened."Of course, Phichit, I would never want you to throw the competition for me!" he exclaimed."May the best musician win."

He stuck out his hand, and Phichit shook it with a relieved smile."I'm glad," he said."I was afraid you'd be angry at me."

Yuuri slid close to his best friend and leaned against his side."Of course not," he said."I would only want to win if it was fair and square, if I deserved it.It wouldn't be a real victory if someone else has to cheat or throw the contest."

Phichit sighed contentedly and leaned his head against Yuuri's shoulder."I hope we get different qualifiers," he said."I really want to face you in the finals."

With that comment Yuuri's anxiety came rushing back full force, making his stomach lurch and his head swim.He must have made a strange noise because Phichit glanced at him in concern, but to Yuuri's relief all he said was, "Want to watch the King and the Skater II with me?"

Yuuri nodded gratefully.A distraction was just what he needed.Phichit fiddled around with the TV before getting the movie to play, and then the two musicians curled up on the couch together to watch.

Yuuri was half asleep when the pounding on the door started.He jerked awake to see the credits of the movie rolling, and then glanced at the clock.It was just past five AM.

"You get it?" Phichit mumbled from beside Yuuri, blinking sleepily and running his fingers through his hair.Yuuri got off the couch, cracked his spine, and then went to open the door before whoever was knocking woke up his neighbors.

Viktor stumbled into the room when Yuuri opened the door, hair disheveled and with dark circles under his eyes, wearing only sweatpants and a ratty sweatshirt."I've been up since four in the morning refreshing the page for the ICC," he gasped as Yuuri closed the door behind him.

Phichit sat up straight."And?"

"The lists for the ICC qualifiers are out!" Viktor exclaimed, brandishing his phone.

Yuuri took it out of his hand before he could say anything else and looked down at the screen.Phichit jumped up an came to look over his shoulder.Yuuri bit his lip.The list of names open in Viktor's web browser was long, but luckily sorted in alphabetical order.Yuuri scrolled down to K for Katsuki.He froze.

His name wasn't there.

There was nothing between Jaeger and Kellerman.Desperation filling him, Yuuri scrolled down to Y, hoping frantically that they had thought his surname was Yuuri.

His name wasn't there.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispered, looking up as his eyes filled with tears."It's over.I'm not on the list.I didn't make the ICC."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end of Prodigy, it's been a nice run! 
> 
> ...OK, yes, I'm kidding, there's more. However, I'm flying across the country for a week, and some of that time will be in the dreaded Land of No Wifi. I'm bringing a bunch of half-finished one shots with me to work on, and I will be working on the next chapter while I'm away, but I honestly don't know when I can get it out. In a perfect world I'll be able to post Ch. 9 in the middle of next week, maybe Wednesday or Thursday, but the ABSOLUTE LATEST will be on Monday the 28th, and then I can get back to a normal schedule. Sorry!
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to ask questions/leave comments if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fantabulous day, dear reader!


	9. A Different Kind of Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor plays the violin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there! I'm back with the (hopefully) eagerly awaited chapter nine! This was written completely on and posted from my phone, so there are probably a million typos, the formatting is undoubtably weird, and there are no links for music. That will all be fixed before the next chapter. Enjoy!

In Viktor's defense, he was exhausted.

He had been up since four in the morning eating a bowl of soggy cereal and refreshing the ICC webpage, and even before that he had slept fitfully. So it took his sleep addled mind a moment to register Yuuri's distraught words.

"Viktor," Yuuri whispered. "It's over. I'm not on the list. I didn't make the ICC."

Viktor blinked. Blinked again. "Wait, what?" he said, trying to form a coherent thought in his sleep-addled mind. "Yuuri, of course you're not on that list," he said with a smile once he was able to put together what was happening.

Yuuri visibly flinched, curling in on himself, and the tears in his eyes spilled over and rolled down his face. Behind Yuuri, Phichit glared at Viktor and opened his mouth furiously, but Viktor shook his head.

"No, no, Yuuri, please don't cry," he said. "You don't understand. That's the list of the people who didn't make the qualifiers."

Yuuri froze.

"What?" Phichit said.

Viktor carefully pried his phone out of Yuuri's hands, switched tabs, and then handed it back. "There you go," he said. "That's all the people who qualified, listed by which competition they're scheduled to compete in."

Phichit squealed as the rage and disappointment slid off his face, hugging Yuuri from behind. "I'm in the New York qualifier!" he gushed.

Yuuri scrolled down, and a slow, beautiful smile spread across his face. "I'm competing in Tokyo," he said softly.

Viktor beamed at him, taking back his phone. "See?" he said. "Nothing to cry about, solnyshko."

Yuuri stepped into Viktor's waiting arms and muffled a relieved sob into his chest. Phichit latched on to Yuuri's back, and the three stood in a group hug for a moment in Yuuri and Phichit's dim apartment before Phichit stepped back.

Yuuri kept his arms around Viktor's waist, but lifted his face. He looked so adorable and relieved that Viktor couldn't help but give him a quick kiss.

"Wait, so why did you give him the list of people who didn't make it?" Phichit asked in confusion.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Technically, you two took my phone before I could say anything." Phichit gave him a long look without saying anything. Viktor got the message.

"Why were you even looking at it, though?" Phichit pressed.

Viktor shrugged. "Curiosity. I noticed that my friend Cao Bin, who has competed in previous years, didn't make the qualifiers. I was looking to see if he was on the list of people who didn't qualify, but I guess he just didn't register this year." Phichit nodded in understanding.

"I made it," Yuuri whispered numbly. He looked like he was in shock. "I really made it."

"That's right, Yuura," Viktor said softly. He pulled Yuuri closer and buried his face in his hair.

"I'm going to go call my clarinet teacher and tell her the news," Phichit said excitedly, and left the room.

Yuuri pressed his face into Viktor's neck for a moment, and then looked up at him. "Thank you, Viktor," he said.

Viktor smiled gently down at him. "It was all you, Yuura. This is your victory."

Yuuri squeezed his waist. "Still. You were the one who convinced me to try in the first place. So thank you."

Viktor chuckled, kissing Yuuri on the forehead. "I guess I can take credit for that," he said.

They embraced for another minute in comfortable silence before Yuuri said suddenly, "Can I see the list again?"

Viktor handed Yuuri his phone, keeping an arm around his waist and resting his chin on Yuuri's shoulder. He looked over the lists again, even though he already knew what they said.

"Oh that's good," Yuuri said pleasantly after a moment. "Yuri Plisetsky qualified too. He's competing in Moscow."

"That's right," Viktor agreed. "I recognize some of the people on this list, but there's also a lot of new names. I'm glad Yura made it."

Yuuri studied the list carefully. "I'm in Japan, Phichit's here in New York, and Yuri is competing in Russia," he said thoughtfully, and then looked up at Viktor. "I thought the qualifier assignments were random."

"They're mostly random," Viktor said. "Sometimes people get their home country, though, if possible. I wouldn't be surprised if they intentionally put Yuri in Russia, since he's still a minor."

"It will be nice to go back to Japan," Yuuri said softly. "I haven't been there in a while. Too long." He looked up at Viktor. "I... I'd like to visit my family. While I'm in Japan. I haven't seen them in years, and I... I miss them. I miss Hasetsu."

"Of course," Viktor said immediately. "You'll have plenty of time. Could I come with you?"

Yuuri nodded shyly, and then said in a rush, "My parents would probably like to meet my boyfriend."

Viktor couldn't stop the brilliant smile that spread across his face. "And I'd love to meet your parents," he said, and then cuddled Yuuri close and buried his face in Yuuri's neck. "I'm so excited!" he said. "I can't wait!"

Yuuri laughed. "Qualifiers aren't for another four months," he said.

Viktor kissed him. "Hush," he scolded. "Let me revel."

Yuuri laughed. "Revel away."

Viktor exhaled happily, and then said, "I'm very happy for you, Yuura."

Yuuri smiled again, but this time it looked a bit nervous. "Do you think I'll be able to get Ketty's piece together in time for the qualifier?" he said worriedly. "I looked at the list of people who I'll be competing against in Tokyo. It's not going to be easy."

"Who are you competing against?" Viktor asked. "I didn't recognize any of the names."

Yuuri pulled back in surprise. "Really?" he said. "None of them?"

Viktor nodded slowly.

"Huh," Yuuri said. "Yuri Plisetsky was sort of right."

Viktor stared at him. "About what?"

Yuuri kissed him, as if that would soften the blow of what he was going to say. "You're a little oblivious," the violist said with a small smile. "On this list alone... Emil Nikola is probably the most famous solo tuba player in the world, for example."

"There are solo tuba players?" Viktor said, dumbfounded.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "Yes." He frowned thoughtfully. "I'm actually surprised you haven't heard of Seung-gil Lee, at least," he said. "He's a very accomplished concert pianist. I've played with him before."

"Is he playing in Tokyo?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri nodded, looking worried. "He's excellent," he said. "I don't know if I would be able to beat him."

Viktor pressed a kiss to the top of Yuuri's head. "I believe in you, Yuura," he said.

"Still, I should probably get to practicing," Yuuri said. "I need to be able to play History Maker perfectly."

Viktor cupped Yuuri's face in his hands, gently brushing the shadows under Yuuri's eyes with his thumbs. "You should sleep," he said in concern. "You look exhausted. Why don't you go back to bed for a few hours, and then have a proper breakfast before practicing? You can come over around ten, like normal."

Yuuri bit his lip. "I'm not sure if I-"

"Please, Yuura," Viktor said. "I want you to take care of yourself."

Yuuri nodded. "Alright." He kissed Viktor on the lips. "I'll see you later, Viktor."

"Sleep well, Yuura," Viktor said softly. "I'm very proud of you. Tell Phichit congratulations again as well."

Yuuri nodded. He gave Viktor another lingering kiss before stepping away. "You should sleep too," he said, looking Viktor over critically.

Viktor smiled. "Yes, sir." He opened the door. "I'll see you at ten, Yuura." Yuuri waved. Viktor kept up his smile until Yuuri's apartment door had closed and he had turned away, and then it slid into a small frown as his shoulders slumped.

What he had said was true. He was incredibly happy for Yuuri, and very proud of the violist's accomplishment. But that didn't completely quell the jealously that gnawed at his heart and sometimes made him feel sick to his stomach.

It hurt, to know that every other musician in the world could try out for the ICC if they wanted, but he didn't even have a chance. That was why he had really been looking at all the lists on the ICC website. He had scoured even the reject list for his own name, hoping that maybe there had been a mistake, but his name was obviously nowhere to be found. Not that he had honestly expected it to be there, but that didn't lessen the hurt.

Viktor was sure it made him an absolutely horrible person that he couldn't let his own failures go even in the face of Yuuri's success. It definitely made him a terrible boyfriend. At that thought Viktor's lip lifted in a tiny, involuntary smile. It hurt, not being able to play. But he couldn't let that get in the way of supporting Yuuri, Yuri, and even Phichit. He was going to be the best damn boyfriend and friend there was, even if it killed him.

Newly determined, Viktor made his way back to his own apartment. As he let himself in, Makkachin sidled up and nudged at his leg with a whine. Viktor knelt down with a small smile and then buried his face in his poodle's fluff. Makkachin barked and licked his shoulder.

"Want to go on a walk?" Vijtor cooed. Makkachin barked again and nudged his face. "Alright," Viktor said.

He wandered down the hall to plug in his phone and grab his coat, Makkachin right in his heels. "Someone is impatient," Viktor laughed when she nipped gently at his sleeve and then tugged him in the direction of the door. He grabbed her leash off the table and hooked it onto her collar before leaving the apartment and closing the door behind him.

After nearly four months of living in New York City, Viktor and Makkachin had developed a route during their walks that led past all the interesting garbage bags and fire hydrants. Makkachin still seemed not to have gotten over the novelty of American garbage, because she sniffed at everything while Viktor waited patiently.

They circled the block once, twice, three times, Viktor deep in thought as Makkachin trotted at his side. He needed to find a way to get out of this rut he was in. If he couldn't get rid of his jealousy, and feel happy for Yuuri without a shred of envy, he wouldn't be able to help Yuuri reach his full potential. Sometimes Viktor was convinced that Yuuri deserved so much better than him, as a teacher, a friend, and now as a boyfriend. He had to be better. He had to be as good as Yuuri, prove that he deserved Yuuri.

After ten laps around the block Makkachin started flagging, and after fifteen laps she sat down in the middle of the sidewalk and refused to move. Viktor stopped and turned back with a sigh as he wrenched himself out of his thoughts.

"Sorry, Makka," he said. "I wasn't paying attention. Ready to go back to the apartment?" Makkachin looked up at him doubtfully, and whined. Viktor sighed indulgently. "Fine, you big baby." He bent over, and with great effort heaved Makkachin up and carried her down the street. Makkachin barked happily and licked his face. Viktor laughed.

He had to set her down to open the door to the apartment building, and Makkachin trotted inside with her head held high. Viktor rolled his eyes. "Diva," he muttered, and followed his dog to the elevator.

They rode up in silence, and Viktor stifled a yawn behind his hand before glancing at his watch. He had been walking Makkachin for more than two hours, and it was almost seven thirty. Viktor knew he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, not after spending so much time in the bracing December chill, and tried to push away the guilt that turned his stomach. He had promised Yuuri he would sleep. Maybe if he took a nap later, it would still count as telling the truth.

Makkachin scratched at the apartment door as Viktor fumbled for his keys, and then slipped in as soon as the door was open and curled up in her dog bed. Viktor gave his dog a fond smile and a pat on the head before taking off his coat and wandering into the kitchen.

The bowl of cereal he had had more than three hours ago definitely wasn't a sufficient breakfast, so Viktor pulled out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread. He wasn't the best cook, but he could probably manage to make himself eggs and toast without burning down the building.

After about fifteen minutes, Viktor sat down at the table with a plate of watery eggs, burnt, tasteless toast, and scalding tea. He nibbled at the corner of his bread, frowning. He needed to learn how to cook better. Maybe Yuuri could teach him. He seemed to be a competent, functioning adult.

Yuri had always promised to teach Viktor how to cook without burning things, but he had never gotten the chance. Viktor would kill to know how to make successful syrniki right now. That thought made him miss Russia, made him miss Yuri, and even made him miss Yakov. He loved living in New York, loved being around Yuuri so much, but it was hard. This was the longest he had ever been away from his home.

Viktor set down his toast with a sigh, and rubbed his eyes. He needed to get more sleep. This exhaustion was clearly making his thoughts wander to places they shouldn't go.

Viktor choked down the rest of his quickly cooling eggs and fed the other half of his toast to Makkachin, who had at some point wandered into the kitchen and curled up under the table on top of his feet. Breakfast done, he drained his mug of tea and quickly washed his dishes before going to shower.

It was around eight fifteen when he finished showering and getting ready for the day, almost two hours before Yuuri would come. Looking to kill time, Viktor settled himself on his bed and picked up a book.

After wandering around New York City one day with Makkachin, he had stumbled upon a bookstore that sold books written in Russian and printed in Cyrillic. He had promptly bought several, ecstatic to have something to read in his own language.

It was lovely to be able to use his mother tongue again, but after fifteen minutes of reading the same paragraph and not absorbing any of the words, Viktor gave up on reading and flopped back on his bed. He felt restless, anxious. He fiddled with the radio for a bit, but couldn't find a channel that wasn't playing some sort of Christmas music, although five days from Christmas that wasn't exactly unexpected.

Viktor hugged a pillow and curled his knees up to his chest, eyes closed. His fingers twitched. He wished he could play the violin. That would help pass the time until Yuuri came.

Before Viktor was really even aware of what he was doing, he had crossed the room and gotten his violin from the closet. Hands shaking, he set the case down on the bed and knelt in front of it. Viktor stared at the closed case, hands folded in his lap.

He couldn't play his violin. He knew that. He knew that it would make his injury worse. But it couldn't hurt to just hold it... Right?

Viktor took a deep breath, and then popped the latch on his case before lifting the lid. He carefully lifted his violin out and gently ran his fingers over the varnished wood of the body, traced each string with his thumb. Trembling, he reached over and took out the bow, tightening the hair.

He wasn't playing. He wasn't. He was just holding it.

Viktor slowly lifted the violin to his shoulder, nestling it into the hollow of his neck. He relaxed almost instantly at the familiar sensation of his violin under his chin. He hadn't felt this in so long. Too long. It was nice to feel again.

But he couldn't play.

Viktor lifted the bow. He shifted his left hand into the correct position on the fingerboard, and then winced as his stupid fucking wrist brace scraped the wood. With great care, he set the violin and bow on the floor next to him, and then considered the brace.

He wasn't going to play. He just wanted to hold the violin. But his brace might damage his instrument. It couldn't hurt to take the stupid thing off, surely, as long as he didn't play.

Viktor slid a finger under the Velcro strap and undid it. He pulled the rest of the Velcro off and slid the brace off his wrist, flexing his hand and curling his fingers. They felt fine. Honestly, he didn't even know why he needed a brace anymore.

Viktor tossed the brace on his bed and then sat next to it, leaning over to pick up his violin again. He lifted it to his shoulder. Put the bow on the strings. Closed his eyes.

Really, his hand felt fine. It didn't hurt at all. What harm could there be in one song? Just one.

A tiny smile curled Viktor's lips as he drew the bow across the strings and played a few [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKQ_GyelRsc%20) before launching into one of Bach's violin partitas.

Just one song.

There was no harm in one song.

***

Viktor was just finishing the [third movement](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRxofEmo3HA) of Vivaldi's Four Seasons when he heard Yuuri let himself into the apartment. Viktor had given him a key months ago, but this was the first time he had used it. He must have knocked. Viktor hadn't heard over his music.

"Viktor?" Yuuri called, footsteps coming a little further into the apartment.

Instead of answering, Viktor started to play softly, a quiet [melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cxj8vSS2ELU%20) from Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet. He ignored the blinding pain that flashed trough his arm every time he moved his pinky.

"Viktor?" Yuuri called again, coming down the hallway to Viktor's bedroom.

Viktor missed a high note, unable to push past the pain enough to hit it.

"Viktor, what are you doing?" Yuuri said as he entered the bedroom and set his viola case on the floor by the door. Viktor played the last few measures again, missing the same note. He let the bow fall to his side and the violin to his lap as Yuuri knelt in front of him.

"Viktor," Yuuri said softly. He looked up at Viktor with worry in his eyes, and then lifted Viktor's fringe out of his face. "You're... crying." Viktor realized for the first time that his cheeks were wet and his eyes stinging with unshed tears of pain and frustration.

Yuuri sighed quietly. He carefully lifted the violin out of Viktor's lap and took the bow from his fingers, setting both gently on the ground before joining Viktor on the bed.

Viktor looked down at his empty hands in his lap, unable to speak. He couldn't even look at Yuuri. The violist gently took Viktor's left hand in his own, and slid the brace back on. Viktor winced as Yuuri's gently fingers reaffixed the Velcro straps, securing the brace back around his wrist.

Yuuri kissed the reddened tips of Viktor's fingers. After only four months, he had lost most of the calluses he had worked years to create.

"Viktor, please talk to me," Yuuri said quietly. "What's the matter?" Viktor stared at his hand, cupped in Yuuri's like it was something delicate. Breakable.

"I didn't expect it to hurt this much," he whispered.

"Playing?" Yuuri asked with a small frown.

Viktor shook his head. Another tear dripped off his chin, making a wet spot on his jeans. "Not playing," he said softly. "I didn't expect it to hurt this much when I lost it."

"You haven't lost it, Viktor, you're just on a break-" Yuuri started.

Viktor shook his head violently. "I feel like I've lost a part of myself, Yuuri," he said plaintively. "Like I've lost a limb." He paused. "This is the one good thing I'm good at," he finally whispered. Yuuri looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent, sensing Viktor wasn't done. Viktor swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. "Playing the violin is the only thing I'm good at," he repeated. "And I've lost it. What does that make me? Nothing?"

Viktor stifled a sob. He clenched his right fist, tried to clench his left one, but his fingers couldn't curl around the black plastic of the brace. Goddammit, he hated that fucking brace. He wanted to rip it off, tear it into a million pieces, burn the shreds, scatter the ashes to the wind. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut before he could go through with his daydream.

Yuuri gently ran his fingers through Viktor's hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "That's not true," he said softly. "Yes, you're famous for being a violinist. You're a very talented musician. But you're so much more than that, Vitya. I don't know how you don't see that."

Viktor tried to no avail to stop the tears from rolling down his face. Yuuri gently gathered him into his arms, stroked Viktor's hair and rubbed his back and let Viktor bury his face in his neck. Viktor let the tears fall as Yuuri whispered calm reassurances in his ear, until the hollow, empty, angry feeling in his chest abated slightly.

Yuuri gave him a tentative smile when he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. "Feel better?" he said softly.

Viktor snuffled wetly. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Yuuri traced small circles on the palm of his right hand. "Don't apologize. A good cry can help more than you'd expect." He laughed. "I'd know." He let his his finger trace the plastic of Viktor's brace, and then asked, "Are you in pain?"

"A little," Viktor admitted sheepishly, shame flooding his chest.

Yuuri kissed him on the forehead. "I'll be right back," he said.

Viktor sat motionless on the bed, staring at his hands, until Yuuri returned with a glass of water, an Advil, and a plastic bag full of ice wrapped in a towel. Viktor didn't say anything as Yuuri remove the brace and wrapped his wrist in the ice, and swallowed the painkiller when Yuuri handed it to him.

"Better?" Yuuri asked. Viktor nodded silently. The manic energy that had filled him before, the desperation, had fled, leaving him filled with shame and regret.

Yuuri seemed to read his mind. "That wasn't the best choice, Vitya, but you shouldn't feel ashamed," he said.

"I know," Viktor murmured.

Yuuri tapped the brace with one finger. "How long do you have with this?"

"It was going to be another week," he said. "Now, I don't know. Maybe longer."

Yuuri bit his lip. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Viktor shook his head. "Not really." He glanced at Yuuri's viola case by the door. "We should start."

He went to stand, but Yuuri grabbed his sleeve and tugged him back down on the bed. "We have four months," he said gently. "Come here. An hour won't make a difference."

He lay down in the bed, pulling Viktor with him. Viktor frowned, but didn't protest as Yuuri put his arms around him and pulled him close.

They lay there for a little while, and Viktor had to admit that it wasn't the worst thing in the world. Yuuri was warm, and the sweater he was wearing was very soft, and his chin rested comfortably on top of Viktor's head as his arms encircled Viktor's waist.

Viktor felt himself relax as Yuuri started to trace senseless patterns on his back. The frustration and pain and self-hatred drained away, leaving Viktor tired but more content than he had been.

"Alright now?" Yuuri asked after a while, kissing the top of Viktor's head.

"Better," Viktor said calmly, and it was the truth.

Yuuri shifted slightly, and Viktor buried his face in Yuuri's shoulder a moment before looking up at him. "So since when do you call me Vitya?" he asked teasingly.

Yuuri blushed a little and ducked his head, eyes wide behind his glasses. "Sorry," he said quickly. "After you started calling me Yuura, I did some research on Russian nicknames. I can stop if you want, I just thought-"

"Don't stop," Viktor said, interrupting him with a kiss. "I love it." _And I think I love you,_ he added in his head, but kept that to himself. It had taken him months to ask Yuuri out. It was still a little soon to drop the L-word. Viktor could wait.

Instead, he said, "Thank you, Yuura. For not pitying me."

Yuuri smiled. "You're not pitiable," he said. "I feel bad that you can't play, but I don't pity you. I can't imagine not being able to play. I'd keep playing even if I retired. It must be hell. Like losing part of yourself."

Viktor nodded. "But you're right," he said. "It's not gone forever. I can play again once I get this damn brace off." He glanced down at his left hand, which had gone numb covered in ice like it was.

"You should probably get that checked out soon," Yuuri said reluctantly. "Just to make sure you didn't hurt yourself more."

Viktor removed the makeshift ice pack and slid the brace back on. Yuuri helped him when he fumbled with the straps. "It's fairly close to the holidays," Viktor said. "I don't know if I can find someone on such short notice."

"I'll help you," Yuuri said resolutely.

Viktor smiled gratefully, and kissed him. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve you," he said.

Yuuri blushed a little, but returned, "Me neither, but I'm very glad you did it."

***

The morning before Christmas Eve found Viktor, Yuuri, Phichit, and Ketty camped out in what had become their coffee shop. Phichit scribbled desperately at an essay draft that had been due the day before, Yuuri and Ketty quietly discussed Yuuri's piece with pencils in hand, and Viktor read his email and sipped a latte.

Ketty wrote a note on the last page of the piece and then said, "Alright, looks good. I'll have these revisions to you later today, alright?"

"Thanks," Yuuri said with a smile.

Ketty glanced around the table. "So are you guys doing anything for Christmas?"

Phichit crossed something out in his paper and then said, "Not that I know of. You?"

"I'm visiting family," she replied.

"Phichit and I don't really do much," Yuuri said, absently tracing patterns on the table with the eraser of his pencil. "I mean, neither of us are Christian, so we don't really do any of the religious stuff."

"What about you, Viktor?" Ketty asked.

Viktor glanced up and smiled. "Russians don't really celebrate Christmas in the same way that Americans do," he said. "I don't have any plans."

Ketty opened her mouth, but before she could say anything her phone pinged. "Oops, I have to go," she said. "It was great seeing all of you!"

"Thanks, Ketty," Yuuri said with a smile. Viktor waved.

"You're welcome to join Yuuri and I for Christmas, Viktor," Phichit said once she had left. "We usually just exchange presents and then I try to get Yuuri to get me alcoholic eggnog."

"You have a problem," Yuuri told him. Phichit just laughed.

Viktor smiled at both of them. "Thank you," he said, warmth flooding his chest. "That sounds fun."

"Of course," Yuuri said shyly. He picked at his fingernail, and then said, "In Japan, a lot of couples spend Christmas Eve together."

"Oh!" Phichit exclaimed, lighting up. "That's why you always get weird when I suggest that we go out together every Christmas Eve." Yuuri got a little redder, and Phichit chuckled. "Well, I'll be third wheeling, I can see."

Yuuri's eyes widened. "No, Phichit, I don't want to leave you out," he exclaimed.

Phichit grinned. "Relax, I'm teasing," he said. "I'm still crashing the party, though."

Viktor leaned across the table. "I can probably get you alcohol," he said.

Phichit grinned. "You're my new best friend," he said. "Forget about Yuuri."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. "Phichit, you turn twenty one in four months," he said in exasperation. "Can't you wait?"

"I have many virtues, but patience is not one of them," Phichit informed him.

Yuuri snorted. "Clearly."

Phichit glanced at Viktor. "You should see Yuuri drunk," he said. "It's hilarious."

"What happens?" Viktor asked, morbidly interested. Yuuri groaned and put his head down on the table.

Phichit smirked. "He tends to lose articles of clothing," he said.

Viktor eyed Yuuri with interest. "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

Yuuri groaned again, fingers tangled in his hair. "You're not going to see anything," he said. "I'm not going to drink on Christmas."

Sure enough, when Viktor dropped by Yuuri and Phichit's apartment with Makkachin the next night, Yuuri seemed perfectly sober.

"Hey, come in," he said with a smile, opening the door for Viktor.

Makkachin trotted in and made herself at home in the middle of the carpet as Viktor took off his shoes and left them by the door. He looked around with interest. He had been to Yuuri and Phichit's apartment before, but only a few times. Yuuri still refused to let Viktor see his room, even though Phichit had told him that Yuuri had taken down most of his Viktor Nikiforov posters.

The two musicians had clearly made an effort to decorate their small apartment. Someone had taped strings of tinsel so that they hung artfully from the ceiling, and a miniature pine tree draped with white fairy lights resided in one corner, a small heap of presents underneath.

"Hey," Phichit said as he wandered out of the kitchen. His smile turned slightly evil as he looked significantly between Yuuri and Viktor, and then above Viktor's head. Viktor glanced up, and then grinned at the mistletoe duct taped to the ceiling above the door.

Yuuri groaned. "Really, Phichit?" he complained. Phichit just snickered.

Viktor took Yuuri by the shoulder and pulled him closer before leaning down and kissing him deeply. Phichit wolf-whistled but they both ignored him, Viktor stroking Yuuri's arm as the violist tangled his fingers in Viktor's hair.

When they finally came up for air, Yuuri was red faced and Viktor was sure he wasn't much better.

"Damn," Phichit said, sounding impressed.

"Nice to see you too, Phichit," Viktor said, sliding an arm around Yuuri's waist.

Phichit just grinned. "Are you staying the night, Viktor?" he asked. "Because I definitely don't think Yuuri would mind having you in his bed." Yuuri buried his face in Viktor's chest and made a whining sound.

Viktor patted his back and laughed. "We'll see how sober I am at the end of the night."

Phichit smirked. "Let me get you a drink, then," he said. "You too, Yuuri."

Yuuri sighed, but took Viktor's hand and led him into the kitchen. "I've only been dating Viktor for three weeks," he said. "I don't want to scare him away by getting drunk and taking off my clothes."

Viktor pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I definitely wouldn't mind seeing you with less clothing," he purred, caressing Yuuri's face. Yuuri went red, and muttered something in Japanese before leaning against Vikror and sighing contentedly.

"I should learn Japanese," Viktor decided.

Phichit laughed, and handed him a glass. "That would be hilarious. Then we can finally find out what he says in his sleep."

Yuuri sighed, and took a long sip from the glass Phichit had handed him. "You are exhausting," he said.

Phichit smiled charmingly. "I do my best!"

Viktor chuckled.

"So usually Yuuri and I talk during cheesy Christmas movies on the Hallmark channel until we fall asleep," Phichit said. "You up for that?"

Viktor smiled. "That sounds perfect."

The three made their way out to the living room with their drinks. Phichit flipped off the lamp so that the only light in the room was from the lights on the tree. Phichit immediately scooped Makkachin into his arms and plopped down on the couch, cuddling her and cooing. Viktor sat down next to Yuuri, and smiled as the violist immediately nestled into his side. Phichit turned on the TV, but dialed the volume way down.

They were quiet for about fifteen minutes, Phichit snuggling with Makkachin and Viktor remarkably content with Yuuri pressed against his side, until the Thai man broke the silence. "So do you miss it?" he asked after draining half of his drink.

Viktor blinked. "Miss what?"

Phichit absently patted Makkachin on the head. "Miss playing the violin."

Viktor glanced down at Yuuri, who shrugged. He hadn't said anything about Viktor's incident. Viktor sighed. "I do," he said. "I do miss it. But..." He trailed off, looking down at Yuuri again. The Japanese man looked up at him, and Viktor kissed him briefly. "I've also been missing out on some other things," he said with a fond smile.

"How so?" Phichit asked.

Viktor carded his fingers through Yuuri's hair. "I don't have many friends in St. Petersburg," he said. "A few casual acquaintances, but other than Yuri, no real friends. It's hard to create a meaningful, lasting relationship when I'm out of the country half the year. This is the first time in a long time that I've been able to make some real friends."

"Viktor, that's so sad!" Phichit exclaimed, and then hiccuped.

"I'm cutting you off," Yuuri said with a smile, taking Phichit's drink out of his hand and setting it on the ground out of the other man's reach.

"Is he always such a lightweight?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri chuckled. "He started before you got here. It's already technically illegal for him to be drinking in the first place, so it would be incredibly irresponsible of me to let him get alcohol poisoning."

"Yuuuuuri," Phichit whined. Yuuri just rolled his eyes. "No one likes me," Phichit mumbled. "No one but you, Makka." He buried his face in Makkachin's fur.

Yuuri looked up at Viktor. "Are you happy?" he asked directly.

Viktor didn't even have to consider the question. "Yes," he said firmly. "I admit, I do miss playing the violin, and I do plan on going back once my hand is better. But... I've been neglecting both my life and my love for too long. I want that to change."

Yuuri gently kissed him. "I'm glad," he whispered. "I think we both need a little life and love."

***

It took some convincing, but Phichit and Viktor eventually pressured Yuuri into going going with them to Times Square on New Year's Eve to watch the ball drop.

"I don't understand why we had to do this in person," Yuuri grumbled as the huge crowd in Times Swuare surged, pushing him into Viktor. "We could have watched it from the comfort of our very warm apartment."

Next to him, Phichit elbowed him in the side, although the blow was softened considerably by the three coats he was wearing. "Hey, I'm just as cold as you are, but everyone needs to do some touristy shit sometimes," he said. "Lighten up, Yuuri. You and Viktor can do the kissing at midnight thing."

"I look forward to it," Viktor said with a smile, resting his hands on Yuuri's shoulders.

Yuuri glanced back at him. "I don't know how you aren't cold," he said.

Viktor looked down at his sweater, loose overcoat, and leather gloves. "I'm Russian," he pointed out. "I have a little more experience with cold winters than the two of you."

Yuuri shivered and leaned back against Viktor. "You're like a furnace," he said. "I should have worn another jacket."

"That's why you should try to be more like me," Phichit said smugly, voice muffled through his scarf.

Viktor smiled as an idea occurred to him. He unzipped his overcoat, and then tugged Yuuri flush against his chest before zipping it back up again.

Yuuri looked up at him. "Really, Vitya?" he said.

Viktor laughed, and kissed Yuuri on the nose. "Are you still cold?"

"No," Yuuri admitted.

Viktor grinned. "Then my mission is accomplished."

Yuuri surrendered, and leaned back against Viktor with a content sigh. "How long until midnight?" he called out.

Phichit glanced over, eyes shining. "Five minutes," he said. "And then we can finally be over and done with this year."

"This year wasn't all bad," Yuuri said softly, looking sideways at Viktor. Viktor's breath caught in his throat. Yuuri looked angelic, with his soft dark hair wind-swept and his eyes bright and shining in the light and his cheeks flushed pink in the cold.

"Yuura," Viktor breathed, and leaned in to give him a long kiss.

"Can't wait until midnight?" Yuuri teased when they came up for air, fingers curled in the fabric of Viktor's sweater. Viktor just laughed.

Yuuri pressed closer, and then stood on his tiptoes and gave Viktor another gentle kiss before murmuring something in Japanese, words Viktor recognized.

"Me too, Yuura," he whispered, wrapping his arms around Yuuri and resting his chin on the top of his head. "I think so too."

"One minute!" Phichit screeched in excitement, jumping up and down. "I had no idea it would be this suspenseful!"

The noise of the crowd around them surged, and Yuuri leaned against Viktor, nosing his collarbone. Snow began to fall, little flurries that drifted slowly down over the city, not quite enough to be a nuisance. Yuuri's eyes danced, and he stuck out his tongue to catch a flake, more snow beading his hair and making it shimmer.

As midnight neared, the crowd began counting out loud. Next to them, Phichit yelled out numbers enthusiastically, but Viktor and Yuuri stayed silent.

"Ten!"

Yuuri traced his fingers across Viktor's chest under his coat, stroking the soft weave of his sweater.

"Nine!"

Viktor gently brushed a strand of Yuuri's hair out of his face, tucking it behind one ear.

"Eight!"

Yuuri looped one of his fingers through the belt loop on Viktor's jeans, pulling him closer.

"Seven!"

Viktor let his lips ghost along Yuuri's forehead, closing his eyes and drinking in his scent.

"Six!"

Yuuri nuzzled against Viktor's neck, lips cool against his skin.

"Five!"

Viktor nuzzled back, kissing Yuuri's soft hair.

"Four!"

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor's waist and let them rest there comfortably.

"Three!"

Viktor put his arms around Yuuri's shoulders, drawing him in so they were pressed against each other, Yuuri still snuggled in Viktor's coat.

"Two!"

Their eyes met, reflecting the lights around them and the falling snow.

"One," Yuuri whispered, so close that Viktor could feel the other's breath against his lips.

As midnight struck, Viktor leaned down and kissed Yuuri, smiling when the other man kissed back with equal enthusiasm. He hugged Yuuri close as they kissed, filled with unspeakable happiness.

In the past, he had spent New Year's Eve with no company other than Makkachin and a bottle of vodka, drunkenly bemoaning what always felt like the end of an era.

This still felt like an ending, Viktor decided as he kissed Yuuri in the gently falling snow. But a different kind of ending.

The kind of ending that would just lead to something better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter mostly filler? Yes. Is there way too much fluff? Yes. Is the ending completely cliche? Yes. Do I care? Not at all. 
> 
> Don't worry, next chapter there will be an appearance of that strange thing called plot. I'm aiming to have chapter ten on Moday the 28th, but the latest will be the 29th. Thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a great day, dear reader!


	10. New York, New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the competitors go sightseeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know this is a day late, please don't hate me... *hides* Also, I said there would be plot? Ha....ha.... Oops... Between chores, work, and trying to sleep off jet lag I didn't get a chance to write this until today, hence the fact that I'm publishing it after 11 my time, but take this offering of pointless fluff and I'll have plot next time. Hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“Yuuri!  Awesome news!” Phichit yelled, bursting into Yuuri’s bedroom without any warning.

Y uuri yelped, jumping.He just barely kept his grip on his viola, and set it down on his desk before Phichit could scare him again.“What is it?” Yuuri asked, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

Phichit grinned at him.“So you know Leo de la Iglesia?” he asked.

Yuuri blinked.“The… trumpet player?Isn’t he in the same qualifier as you?”

“Yeah,” Phichit said.“I got his number at a previous competition.He just texted me, and asked if there was anything I recommended he do while in New York.”He flopped down on Yuuri’s bed, grinning.

Yuuri sat down next to him and stretched out his legs, smiling at his best friend.“What does that have to do with me?” he asked.

Phichit rested his head on Yuuri’s knee, unlocking his phone again.“Don’t you know what this means?” he said excitedly.“I can organize a get together with all the competitors for the qualifier, and show them around the city, and we can all do touristy shit together.”

Yuuri chuckled, because that idea was so completely _Phichit._ “Do you even have contact information for all of the competitors?”

Phichit grinned.“I can find a way,” he said.“Obviously I have Leo’s number.I know for a fact that he has a massive crush on Ji Guang-Hong, one of the other musicians playing in the New York qualifier, so Leo can reach out to him.And then I can probably figure out how to DM Mila Babicheva through Instagram or Twitter.”

“Aren’t you missing a competitor?” Yuuri asked.“I thought there were five in each qualifier.”

Phichit glanced up at him.“Oh, I guess you didn’t get that email,” he said.“The fifth competitor had to drop out super last minute.Some family issue.So it’s only me, Leo, Guang-Hong, and Mila.”

“Huh,” Yuuri said thoughtfully.“Still don’t see where I come in.”

Phichit reached up and flicked him in the middle of the forehead.“Obviously you and Viktor are invited,” he said.“Yuuri, you’ve lived in New York City for five years and I know for a _fact_ that you still haven’t been to the Statue of Liberty.It’s not negotiable, you and Viktor are going to come do touristy shit with me and the rest of the competitors.”

Yuuri laughed.“You haven’t even gotten them to agree,” he said.

Phichit just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.“Who could say no to _this_?”

A knock came on the front door before Yuuri could answer, and Phichit hollered, “It’s open!”A moment later Viktor wandered into the room, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans.Yuuri tried not to notice how good Viktor’s arms looked in the short sleeved t shirt he was wearing.

“Am I interrupting something?” Viktor asked with a laugh.

“Oh no, Yuuri!” Phichit cried dramatically, throwing an arm over his face and almost hitting Yuuri in the eye.“He’s found out about our secret romance!”

Yuuri winced, but Viktor just chuckled, leaning against the doorframe.Yuuri breathed a soft sigh of relief.The first few times Phichit had made a joke like that Viktor hadn’t taken it well at all, but he seemed to have come to the realization that the Thai man was in no way a threat to his relationship with Yuuri.

“Yuuri, how could you betray me so?” Viktor said in an equally dramatic voice, sagging against the doorframe and clutching his chest.“Oh, I… I feel my heart breaking!”

“You two are idiots,” Yuuri said, rolling his eyes.He gently nudged Phichit’s head off his lap, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Hey, Viktor,” Phichit said, sitting up and leaning against the wall.“Have you ever heard of Mila Babicheva?I think she’s Russian as well.”

Viktor smiled in amusement, standing up straight again.“You _do_ know I’m not personally acquainted with every Russian in the world,” he teased.

Phichit smirked.“But…?”

“Yes, I think we’ve met,” Viktor confirmed wth a nod.“Musician, right?I want to say… clarinet?”

“Basoon,” Phichit corrected.

Viktor snapped his fingers.“Yes!That’s right.”He nodded thoughtfully.“Yakov is friends with her teacher.We met at a competition once.She’s very… fierce.”

Phichit smiled.“I’m going to organize a get together for all the competitors in the New York qualifier, to show them around the city,” he said.

Viktor raised his eyebrows in surprise.“Why?” he asked.

Phichit grinned.“Just because we’re competitors doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” he pointed out.“After all, Yuuri and I are besties but I still want to beat him.”

Yuuri laughed.“I think _I’m_ going to be doing the winning,” he said.

Viktor smiled fondly, and Yuuri smiled back.It had taken him a few months to be comfortable enough to banter with Phichit, but now he and his roommate often joked about beating each other in the ICC.“Don’t you think that’s a little last minute, though?” Viktor pointed out.“It’s only a week and a half until your qualifier.”

Phichit waved a hand, dismissing his concerns.“I’m not too worried about it,” he said.“It’s just for fun.Besides, a week and a half is plenty of time.Leo said he’s not flying in for another few days anyway.”

Viktor smiled.“Have fun, then.”

“Oh, no, Nikiforov, you’re not escaping this,” Phichit said, wagging his finger.“You and Yuuri are getting dragged along on this little adventure, because Yuuri is a bad boyfriend and didn’t show you around the city.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“Yuura is a wonderful boyfriend,” he said. Yuuri blushed, but smiled at Viktor.Viktor smiled back, and they gazed lovingly at each other for a long moment.

“I want a Pop tart,” Phichit said suddenly, sitting up straight.He glanced between Yuuri and Viktor with a smirk.“Either of you lovesick nerds in?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Viktor said, and Yuuri nodded in agreement.Phichit got to his feet and left the room with a wide smirk, texting.

Viktor crossed the room and sat down next to Yuuri, putting an arm around his waist and nosing at his jaw.Yuuri giggled when Viktor found the spot under his ear where he was very ticklish and kissed it.“Vitya,” he complained.

Viktor leaned his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder and smiled.“I think in seven months of living here, this is the first time you’ve let me see your room in the light of day,” he observed.“Christmas doesn’t count, since we were tipsy and it was dark and I fell asleep almost immediately.”Yuuri glanced around his room, hoping he hadn’t left anything incredibly embarrassing out.Other than the jacket hanging from the back of his desk chair, Yuuri kept his room neat, with his books filed on the shelf in alphabetical order and his clothes folded and his sheet music organized and stacked on his desk.

“So where are the infamous posters I’m always hearing about from Phichit?” Viktor asked with a smile in his voice.

“Top desk drawer!” Phichit yelled from the other room.Yuuri sighed, giving up as Viktor got to his feet and opened the drawer before pulling out a thick sheaf of posters.

“Phichit wasn’t exaggerating,” Viktor said with a smile, flipping through the posters.He smiled down at one, from several years before.“I remember this performance,” he said fondly.“This was the year I broke the ICC high score world record.”

Yuuri blushed, but leaned against Viktor.“I kind of had a minor freak out while watching the livestream,” he admitted.“It was… incredible.”

Viktor smiled softly and kissed his forehead.“That means a lot coming from you, solnyshko,” he said.

Yuuri bit his lip and smiled.Sometimes it felt surreal, having the man who had been his idol for years sitting on his bed and hugging him and kissing his cheek and looking at him like he was beautiful.it also felt as natural as anything, more natural than Yuuri had ever expected anything to be.Yuuri tried to push back the anxiety that sometimes arose with the joy of being around Viktor.He knew it was probably temporary, just as long as Viktor was in New York to teach him.He knew it couldn’t last, which was why he should enjoy it while it was happening.Viktor was like the sun, or the stars, bright and beautiful but almost impossible to hold onto.Yuuri was sure that he would have to let go eventually.It was only reasonable to think that someone as amazing as Viktor wouldn’t want to stay tied to Yuuri forever.It would hold Viktor back.But, the fact that it made him selfish be damned, Yuuri wanted to hold on as long as possible.

Viktor flicked to another poster.“2012,” he murmured.“The first year I won the ICC.”He glanced up at Yuuri, and said somberly, “You know, I seriously considered retirement that year.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.“What?” he gasped.

Viktor nodded thoughtfully.“Violin was already important to me, but that was before it consumed everything in my life,” he said.“I thought about leaving at what I thought would be the peak of my career.”

“What stopped you?” Yuuri asked.He reached out and took Viktor’s left hand.The violinist had gotten the brace off a month ago, but he still wasn’t allowed to play for very long and it often ached.

Yuuri massaged small circles into the skin as Viktor smiled and said, “Yuri Plisetsky.”

Yuuri blinked.“Really?”

Viktor chuckled.“Really.”He paused, studying Yuuri’s face, and then said, “He must have been, oh, maybe eleven or so.Yakov had just taken him on as a student.As soon as I accepted my award and got off the stage, he kicked me in the shin and told me that i shouldn’t get used to winning, because he was going to beat me as soon as he was old enough to enter the ICC.It… surprised me.But for some reason I didn’t want to disappoint this tiny, angry little child.So I didn’t retire.”He sighed quietly.

“You really miss him, don’t you,” Yuuri said softly.Viktor smiled a little wistfully, but didn’t answer.Yuuri hesitated, and then asked, “Is he still mad at you?For leaving Russia, for coming here to teach me?”

Viktor looked like he was considering that carefully.“He says he’s mad, and he’ll probably kick me or punch me the next time I see him,” he said.“But I don’t think he’s really mad.He’s been texting me more frequently, at least, and we've talked on the phone a few times.”

“That’s good,” Yuuri said, sighing in relief.“I wouldn’t want to ruin your relationship.”He swallowed.Even after several months he felt a little guilty about stealing Viktor from the musical world, even though it was temporary.

“Don’t worry about that, Yuura,” Viktor said quietly.He kissed Yuuri on the cheek.“You haven’t ruined anything.”

Yuuri sighed contentedly and leaned against Viktor.

“How’s the practice going?” Viktor asked, glancing at Yuuri’s viola lying mostly forgotten on his desk.

“Pretty good,” Yuuri answered, and it was mostly the truth.After several months of learning Ketty’s piece, he could play it technically perfect, or as close to perfect as he was going to get.What hadn’t clicked yet was the emotion he was supposed to be conveying.It was just beyond his grasp, but Yuuri hadn’t quite managed to achieve it yet.Only then would he be ready to play in competition and win.

“Can I hear?” Viktor asked, kissing Yuuri’s cheek.

“Sure,” Yuuri replied, getting to his feet and picking up his viola.Just before he lifted it to his shoulder, Phichit stuck his head into the room. 

“Sorry, I’ll just be a sec,” he said.“So Leo said he’s in for the sight seeing, and he thinks he can convince Guang-Hong as well.And how does this sound?" He glanced down at his phone and started reading."Hi, Mila!My name is Phichit Chulanont, I'm one of the competitors in the upcoming ICC qualifier in NY.Since I live in NYC, I'm showing around some of the other competitors a few days before the competition, and we're gonna do some fun touristy stuff.Would you like to join?Let me know!"

"That sounds good," Yuuri said with a smile.

"Do you have her contact information?" Viktor asked.

Phichit shrugged."I'm going to direct message her," he replied."She's on Instagram."

Viktor raised an eyebrow."I have her cellphone number.Do you want it?"

Phichit looked like Viktor had offered him the keys to the city."Really?"

Viktor shrugged, nodding. "Sure.Just tell her who you got it from."He grinned."Name dropping always helps, especially if it's my name you're dropping."

"Modesty, Vitya," Yuuri laughed, tapping Viktor on the cheek.

Viktor smiled back."I am the best at being modest," he said, and then took out his phone. “Here, I’ll text you her number.”

Phichit grinned at Viktor.“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” Viktor said with a nod.Phichit left with a little wave, and Yuuri glanced at Viktor.

“Go ahead,” the older man said, waving a hand.Yuuri lifted his viola to his shoulder and started to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I7FT0PHG9E), closing his eyes and losing himself in the flurry of notes.When he finished the piece, he opened his eyes again to see Viktor watching him with a gentle smile, chin resting in his hands. “Lovely, Yuura,” he praised.

Yuuri sighed, setting his viola down again.“I know I can play it technically perfect,” he said.“But… I’m not feeling it.I don’t know what I’m missing.”

Viktor gestured Yuuri over, and then wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, looking up at him.“I’m not worried about you, Yuura,” he said.“Even if you don’t think you’re doing it perfectly, you’re still incredible.The judges won’t fail to see that.You’ll be able to play as beautiful as ever at both the qualifier and the final.I believe in you.”

Yuuri smiled.“Thank you, Vitya,” he said softly.“I hope you’re right.”

***

True to form, Phichit was able to charm all of the competitors in the New York qualifiers, plus Viktor and Yuuri, into going sightseeing as a group.Despite not knowing any of the other competitors but Leo, Yuuri was excited to go.He had been practicing hard, enough that his fingers almost constantly ached.He was looking forward to spending a day with his friends and his boyfriend, having fun and not thinking about the pressure of competition.

They had all agreed to meet up near the other competitors’ hotel, which meant Yuuri, Phichit, and Viktor had to take the subway.Even after five years of living in New York, Yuuri still hadn’t gotten used to riding the subway.Something about being underground, crammed into a metal tube with dozens of strangers hurtling through a narrow tunnel at high speeds put him on edge.

Yuuri nervously followed Phichit and Viktor onto the train, fists clenched anxiously.Despite the fact that it was a warm April day, Yuuri was wearing a sweatshirt, and couldn’t help but fiddle with the ties.Viktor glanced sideways at him as they sat down, noticing his anxiety.

“Hey, are you alright?” Viktor murmured, putting an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulling him close.

Yuuri nodded, trying to calm his trembling.He was _not_ going to have a panic attack like last time he was on the subway.He was _not._ “Not a fan of the underground,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Viktor murmured in sympathy, and then pressed a long kiss to Yuuri's cheek. Phichit was standing a little ways away from them, holding on to an overhead bar and staring at his phone, but Yuuri thought he caught a small smile.

“What do you need me to do?” Viktor murmured, breath warm on Yuuri’s ear.

“It’s OK,” Yuuri whispered.  "I'm fine."He didn’t want to be a burden.

Viktor made a small murmuring noise and buried his face in Yuuri’s neck, hugging him close.Yuuri sighed quietly, relaxing a little.Viktor’s touch was calming, comforting.The panic brewing in Yuuri’s stomach abated a little as Viktor wrapped him in a hug, like he was protecting him from the rest of the world.

The subway ride passed in a blur, and before Yuuri knew it Viktor was tugging him up and the three musicians were walking up the steps to the surface.“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured, taking Viktor’s hand.

Viktor hummed contentedly and laced their fingers together.“You have nothing to thank me for.”

“I see them!” Phichit exclaimed in excitement, pointing.He waved an arm over his head, and a boy Yuuri recognized as Leo de la Iglesia waved back with equal excitement before saying something to his two companions, a small Chinese boy and a taller girl with short red hair.The two groups of musicians walked towards each other, meeting in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Hi!” Phichit exclaimed, grinning widely and bouncing on his toes.Yuuri was already regretting agreeing to stop at Starbucks before coming to meet the others.Phichit clearly hadn’t needed any more caffeine, especially not an enormous cappuccino.Leo smiled in greeting, and Guang-Hong waved before ducking his chin.The girl, who Yuuri assumed was Mila, stared wide-eyed at Viktor and Yuuri.

“Holy shit, you’re Viktor Nikiforov,” she said in an accent similar to Viktor’s, if a bit stronger.Horror flashed across her face.“Wait, are you competing and then did’t tell us?Oh, fuck, we don’t have a chance.”

Viktor laughed.“Don’t worry, I’m not competing,” he said.“I’m here as a tourist today, I suppose.Phichit dragged us along.”

Mila’s eyes snapped to Phichit.“I thought you said you were bringing your roommate and his boyfriend, not Viktor Nikiforov,” she said accusingly.

Phichit grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the shock he had caused.“I did,” he said.“My roommate.”He gestured to Yuuri, who waved weakly.“And his boyfriend.”He jerked his thumb at Viktor, whose arm was still around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Huh,” Leo said thoughtfully.“I didn’t know you two were dating.”

“We’re keeping our relationship low-key,” Viktor said happily before giving Yuuri a dramatic kiss on the lips.

“Are you capable of doing anything low-key?” Yuuri muttered when they parted.

“I haven’t ever tried,” Viktor admitted, and then kissed Yuuri on the tip of the nose.Yuuri pushed him away in embarrassment when he heard at least two of the other musicians snickering, but didn’t protest when Viktor hugged him from behind and pulled him against his chest.

“Are they always this sweet?” Guang-Hong asked shyly.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Phichit answered before Yuuri could say anything.“But if it gets to be too much we can always just ditch Viktuuri somewhere.”

“Viktuuri?” Yuuri repeated, confused.

Phichit raised an eyebrow at him.“Your ship name,” he said.

Yuuri went red, and he stammered out, “Phichit, you… you can’t _do_ stuff like that!”

Phichit smiled sympathetically, like Yuuri was a small child with silly ideas.“Yuuri, my closest and most dear friend, you’ve had a ship name since day one,” he said.“It’s not changing.”

“I like it,” Viktor murmured, breath hot on Yuuri’s ear.Yuuri shivered.“It makes us sound like an unbreakable promise," Viktor continued.  "Inseparable.”

“That’s not hard to imagine, if you’re always this clingy,” Yuuri grumbled, but he didn’t really mind.After nearly five months of dating, Yuuri had gotten used to Viktor’s constant closeness.He had found it a little confusing at first, not sure why Viktor would want to hug him all the time, but now he found it very endearing.

“So where do you guys want to go first?” Phichit asked, clasping his hands together and practically vibrating with anticipation.

Guang-Hong hesitated, and then said, “Can we see the Empire State Building?I have never been to New York City before, so that is one of the only things I know about here.”

“Of course,” Phichit said.“It’s not exactly close, so we’ll have to take the subway, but-”He cut off abruptly, glancing at Yuuri.“Is that OK?”

Yuuri, knowing he was talking about subway travel, nodded.“I’m fine,” he promised.

Phichit’s grin reappeared.“Great!Let’s go!”

The six musicians set off down the street in the direction of the subway station.Yuuri gripped Viktor’s hand tightly as they descended into the dim station and waited on the platform that smelled faintly like sewer water and cigarette smoke and urine, but for some reason the train itself wasn’t as bad.Maybe it was Viktor sitting next to him with his arm around Yuuri’s waist and his head next to Yuuri’s, or maybe it was the quiet, genuinely happy smiles he got from Leo, Guang-Hong, and Mila when they noticed Viktor and Yuuri together, or maybe it was Phichit’s loud ebullience, and his bouncing around that made most of the other passengers keep a wide berth, but Yuuri didn’t feel as trapped.All the same, he breathed a sigh of relief when they got off the train at the station closest to the Empire State Building.

“I’m going to take a selfie at the top,” Phichit said with a laugh as they entered the building.It was April, and a nice day out, but it was also the middle of a Wednesday afternoon so the place wasn’t too crowded.They bought tickets and waited for a few minutes for the elevator that would bring them to the top.

Yuuri watched in amusement as Phichit fidgeted, absently fingering notes on his arm like it was his clarinet.“I don’t think I should have had that coffee,” he told Yuuri.

Yuuri laughed.“Maybe not.”

Mila sidled over.“Can I join?” she asked, and then glanced over at Leo and Guang-Hong, who were engaged in a murmured conversation, standing perhaps a bit closer than necessary.“I think they’re flirting.”

Phichit smirked.“Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Mila glanced at Viktor, and then said tentatively, “Are you familiar with a violinist named Yuri Plisetsky?”

Viktor lit up.“You know Yura?” he asked.

Mila smiled.“I met him at a competition,” she replied.“He was very good.”

V iktor nodded, smiling fondly.“Yura is very talented,” he agreed.

Mila chewed on her lip, and then said tentatively, “Are you two close?Do you talk to him at all?”

Viktor frowned, puzzled, but nodded.“I texted him yesterday,” he replied.

Mila took a deep breath.“And… he seemed alright?”

Viktor’s frown deepened.“Is there any reason he wouldn’t be?”

Mila absently ruffled her short hair.“When we played at the same competition, he seemed… upset.Angry.And I overheard something about his grandfather?”

Viktor’s expression cleared, and he nodded.“Right,” he said.“His grandfather was injured, but he’s doing a lot better now.Yura called me after it happened.”He smiled slightly, and added, “And he’s always angry, so that’s nothing to worry about.”

Mila smiled.“I’m glad,” she said.

“Hey, are you guys coming?” Phichit said, and Yuuri glanced up to see that the elevator had arrived, and the others had gotten in already.

“Sorry,” Yuuri blurted, entering.Mila and Viktor squeezed in behind him.

“You OK, solnyshko?” Viktor whispered, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder as the elevator jolted and began to go up.

Yuuri nodded.“Elevators are fine,” he replied.“For whatever reason it’s just the subway that gets to me.”

Viktor gave him a bright smile.“I will admit, I’ve always wanted to come here,” he said.“I’ve never seen New York City from up in the air.”

“It’s super cool,” Phichit said with a wide grin.

Yuuri looked at him in surprise.“You’ve been here before?” he asked.

Phichit gave him an amused look.“Yuuri, just because you’re the most uninspired world traveller ever doesn’t mean I am,” he said.“I did all the cool mainstream tourist stuff in the first few weeks after I moved here.I have a folder of selfies on my phone, wanna see?”

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Typical,” he said fondly.The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open with a small hiss.

“We’re here!” Phichit said, and herded the others outside.They made their way out onto the observation deck, and more than one person gasped in delight.

“Wow,” Leo said, sounding impressed.“This is higher than I expected.”

Guang-Hong rushed to the railing and gripped the concrete edge with one hand while resting the other on the metal lattice that formed a higher fence around the outside wall.“This is so cool!” he exclaimed, and then murmured something in Mandarin.

Mila crossed her arms, but nodded.“I mean, Moscow will always be my favorite city, but this isn’t bad,” she said.“Howhigh are we?”

Phichit shrugged.“There’s probably a sign somewhere,” he said.“I think we're more than seventy five floors up, though.”  He grinned, and took a selfie with the city skyline in the background.

Yuuri slowly walked to the edge to stand a little ways away from Guang-Hong, Viktor following behind.“I can see Central Park,” Yuuri murmured.

Viktor placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, looking over the city.“We should have a picnic there sometime,” he said absently.“I’ve taken Makkachin on walks in Central Park before.She likes it a lot.”

Yuuri turned and kissed him on the lips.

“Maybe after the ICC Finals,” Viktor muttered, almost to himself.

Yuuri stared at him.“A-after?” he stammered.

Viktor gave him a small, almost nervous smile.“After,” he said firmly.His smile turned into a smirk.“You didn’t think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you?” he teased.

Yuuri felt his eyes prick with tears.“Really?” he whispered.

Viktor hugged him, cradling his head against his shoulder.“Yuura, my solnyshko, my zolotse, lyubov moya, did you really think I would let you go?” he whispered.“Not while I have you, ya lyublyu tebya bolshe vsego na swete.I refuse.”

Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s waist tightly, pressing his face into his shoulder.Viktor continued to whisper in Russian, face pressed against Yuuri’s hair.

For the first time, Yuuri let himself think about after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I don't speak Russian and had no choice but to use the notoriously unreliable Google Translate, so please correct me if I did it wrong. Also, Phichit is totally the biggest Viktuuri shipper ever and no one can convince me otherwise.
> 
> I'll be back with plot on the 31st. Promise. Until then, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a terrific day, dear reader!


	11. The Four Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the New York qualifier commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I'm not as late today... kinda! So this chapter is a little different; It's Phichit's POV, because I thought it would be good to have his perspective both on his own qualifier and on Viktor and Yuuri. I hope it isn't too boring, it's a wee bit light on the Viktuuri but in return I offer you: Leoji!
> 
> Bear with me here, I'm a string player specializing in viola, so I've probably made mistakes about some of the musical terminology, since what I know about wind instruments comes from Google and my band friends. Please let me know if there's something I should fix. Also, again, these are made up competitions and therefore probably nothing like real competitions, so suspend your disbelief if you must. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The day of his qualifier, Phichit was up with the sun.

He woke up sometime around four in the morning, and tried fruitlessly to sleep before finally giving up around five.He wandered out into the main living area after putting on a fuzzy sweatshirt, gym shorts, and a pair of old, woolen socks, making sure to walk quietly so he wouldn’t wake Yuuri.

Phichit sat down on the couch and turned on his phone, automatically opening Instagram.He looked through his feed for a moment, and then closed his eyes and sighed when he realized he was unable to concentrate.It was a bad sign if he wasn’t able to concentrate on Instagram.

Phichit leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling in the dim light.He hadn’t bothered to turn a lamp on, and the only light was the faint glimmer from his phone screen, illuminating his face and reflecting off the solitary strand of sparkly Christmas tinsel that Phichit had stubbornly refused to take down, much to Yuuri’s chagrin and Viktor’s glee.

Phichit sighed heavily.Even with more than six hours until his competition, his stomach was churning with nerves.Phichit stared so long at the ceiling that the divots and stains on the cracked plaster began to swim before his eyes, creating swirling shapes.He shook himself awake, and glanced at his phone.5:13.Phichit let out a soundless groan, and then heaved himself to his feet and wandered into the kitchen.Maybe something with caffeine would make him feel a little more human.

Phichit stuck a mug of hot water in the microwave, and then rummaged through the cabinets looking for some tea.The only kinds he could find was the tea Yuuri had managed to find at a Japanese grocery store than he said reminded him of home, and Viktor’s gross Russian stuff.Phichit took some of Yuuri’s tea, hoping it had caffeine, and then retreated back to the couch, snagging this headphones from the kitchen table on the way.

Phichit curled up on the couch again with his tea and plugged in his headphones, hitting play on the familiar soundtrack to _The King and the Skater._ The comforting lull of the music crooning in his ears, he closed his eyes again and let his mind wander as he cupped his warm mug of tea.

He sort of wished he could play one of the songs from his favorite movie in the qualifier, but he hadn’t been able to find an arrangement for clarinet and his teacher had strongly advised him against it.Maybe if he placed well in the ICC this year, she would let him arrange _Shall We Skate_ for clarinet and orchestra.

Phichit exhaled softly as the song switched.He had to think positively.It probably made him a bad person, but after being best friends with Yuuri for the past five years and seeing the type of damage anxiety could do, he knew he couldn’t let himself go down that same path.Yuuri had been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder that made his nerves much worse that Phichit’s would ever be, but Phichit knew just as well how devastating a negative spiral could turn out, and he refused to let himself think like that.So he had to think that he was going to do amazing in his qualifier, and blow all of the other musicians (even Yuuri, hopefully, and especially Yuri Plisetsky) out of the water in the ICC finals, and then he was going to do it all again the next year, too.He could show everyone in Thailand than playing the clarinet was both fun, and not as easy as everyone seemed to think.He would _flourish_.

Phichit’s thoughts drifted as the music played through his headphones, familiar enough to be almost like white noise.The qualifier in New York was the third to happen, so two of the ICC finalists had already been chosen.JJ Leroy, a violinist, had won the qualifier held in Vancouver, and the oboist Otabek Altin had decimated his competition in Shanghai.After New York was Paris, and then Moscow, and then finally Yuuri’s qualifier in Tokyo.

Phichit hadn’t told his friend yet that he might not be able to go cheer him on in Japan, and it made him feel terrible.Yuuri had always been so supportive, and he and Viktor were both coming to the qualifier today to cheer Phichit on.But Phichit’s clarinet teacher had advised that it might not be the best idea to travel to Japan if he had to compete in Barcelona a month later against the best of the best, not to mention he would really have to scrounge to afford the flight in the first place.Phichit sort of agreed with her.What made it even worse was that he was sure Yuuri would agree as well.It made Phichit feel terrible.When Yuuri needed a friend, he might not be able to be there.The only way Phichit would feel comfortable going would be to lose his qualifier, and Phichit balked at that.After all, he and Yuuri had agreed: no going easy.They were both playing for keeps.

It did offer him some solace, however, that Yuuri had Viktor.He was over the moon to see his friend so in love, and it made him even happier to know that Viktor was just as head over heels as Yuuri was.Phichit knew that Yuuri still had anxieties about his relationship with Viktor and its permanence, and sometimes he wished Yuuri could just see the way Viktor looked at him, like he had hung all the stars in the sky and was the most amazing, incredible thing Viktor had ever seen.It was so adorable that Phichit didn’t even really mind being the third wheel all the time, as long as Yuuri let him post cute pictures of them to Instagram.

Phichit dozed on the couch for close to an hour, until he was jolted awake by the sudden absence of sound in his ears.He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, glancing at his phone.The soundtrack had finished, and it was a little past seven.He looked down at his mug of tea, which was empty.Somehow he had finished it without even registering the fact that he was drinking, but that would explain the scalded spot on the roof of his mouth. Getting up from the couch, Phichit had a vague notion of eating something, which would probably be a good idea before the competition.It would be much harder to cross the break if his hands were shaking.

As Phichit was pouring himself a bowl of dry Cheerios, Yuuri slumped into the kitchen and went straight for the instant coffee.“Hey, morning glory,” Phichit said with a grin, leaning back against the counter and eating a Cheerio.Yuuri mumbled something that might have been a Japanese invective, and fumbled for a mug.

Phichit eyed his friend critically.Yuuri wasn’t a morning person on the best of days, but he looked worse than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and fluffy hair sticking up.  He was pretty sure Yuuri's shirt was on backwards.Phichit toyed with another piece of cereal, and then asked nonchalantly, “How late were you out last night?"

Yuuri sighed, rubbing his temple and mussing up his hair in front.“I dunno,” he muttered, accent thicker than usual.“Maybe two in the morning?”

Phichit smirked.Yuuri had gone over to Viktor’s apartment for the afternoon and evening, leaving a grateful Phichit with plenty of time to frantically practice.“Did you have a good time?” he teased as Yuuri took his instant coffee out of the microwave and sipped cautiously at the hot liquid.“Get in some good… exercise?”

Yuuri choked on his coffee, hacking.Phichit giggled.

“That’s not what we were doing!” Yuuri protested once he was able to breath again.He set his mug of coffee on the counter, red-faced.Phichit just raised a doubtful eyebrow.Yuuri blushed harder.“Viktor and I… We didn't, I mean-That is, we, um… we didn't do _that_ ,” Yuuri managed to stammer.

Phichit eyed Yuuri, but he had no reason to believe his friend was lying.Yuuri wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, but he probably wouldn’t fib straight to Phichit’s face.“Then why were you out so late?” he asked.

Yuuri shrugged.“I don’t know,” he said, wiping a drop of coffee off the rim of his mug and licking it off his finger.(Phichit wished Viktor had been there to see it, the Russian man probably would have had a heart attack).“We were just spending time together,” Yuuri continued.“We played cards for a while, took Makka on a walk, got ice cream, I made us dinner, we shared a bottle of wine… And then a little before midnight, Vitya had the brilliant idea to start a movie.”

“Ooh, what movie?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri’s lips quirked into a small smile.“ _The Red Violin._ Which was pretty good, actually, but also very long.And then you know what Viktor’s like, he’s incapable of short goodbyes.So I didn’t get back here ’til after two.”

“You could have stayed over,” Phichit pointed out, frowning slightly.He wasn’t exactly sure why Yuuri hadn’t, actually, but suspected it had something to do with the violist’s self-doubt and insecurities.

Yuuri went pink again.“Oh, well,” he said softly, hiding his face behind his coffee mug and letting the steam fog up his glasses.

Phichit fiddled with the few pieces of cereal left in his bowl, and then asked without looking at Yuuri, “So when are you two moving in together?”

Yuuri choked again, and then dumped the rest of his coffee down in the sink.“I clearly can’t drink around you,” he muttered, avoiding the question.

Phichit set his bowl on the counter and then hopped up to sit next to it.“Yuuri, you practically live at Viktor’s place anyway,” he said.“It’s not like anyone would be surprised.”

Yuuri cleared his throat, facing a little away from Phichit.“I… I haven’t thought about it,” he muttered.

Phichit _knew_ that was a lie.There was no way Viktor Nikiforov, a very affectionate to the point of clingy man, hadn’t mentioned moving in together after dating for nearly five months.

Yuuri looked up at Phichit, eyes wide.“Besides, part of the reason Viktor moved to New York was so that you and I could keep sharing an apartment and I could continue to help with rent.Moving in with Viktor would completely defeat that purpose!”

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“Yuuri,” he said quietly.“I don’t mean to be blunt, but I don’t expect the two of us to room together for the rest of our lives.I’m hoping that someday I’ll fall in love and want to get married, which would hopefully involve living with my spouse.And Yuuri, what you and Viktor have… I haven’t seen you like this before.Ever.You two are good for each other.You shouldn’t give up the chance to live with the man you love because of some misguided sense of obligation.Please.”

“Phichit-kun,” Yuuri said in a strained voice, face turned away.His hands were shaking.“I… Can we please talk about this later?Not now?”

Phichit ate the last pieces of cereal and set his bowl in the sink.“If that’s what you want,” he said slowly.“But please think about it.”

Yuuri took a deep breath.“I’ll think,” he muttered.“But you need to concentrate on your qualifier today.”

“We’ll talk about it after the ICC finals,” Phichit said resolutely.

For some reason an odd expression flitted across Yuuri’s face with those words, but he nodded and repeated weakly, "Yes.After.”

Phichit cracked a smile.“Besides, after the finals you won’t have to worry about splitting rent,” he chirped.“I’ll have a big fat wad of cash from the prize money after I win.”

Yuuri smiled back a little wanly.“You mean _I’ll_ have a fat wad of cash.”

Phichit laughed.“That’s the spirit!” he exclaimed, and jumped off the counter.“I’m still hungry.Do you want pancakes?”

Yuuri nodded quickly.“I could go for pancakes,” he agreed.

“Excellent, get the chocolate chips,” Phichit ordered, reaching for his phone.He turned up the volume, and slightly tinny pop music filtered out of the speakers.Yuuri just laughed, but did as he said and got a bag of chocolate chips from the cupboard.

They were on their fourth round of pancakes when the front door opened and closed.A moment later Makkachin came bounding into the kitchen, Viktor close on her heels.As usual, the Russian man looked unfairly put together, but nonetheless he stared in awe at Yuuri in his loose, backwards t shirt and flannel pajama pants, wearing an old apron over his clothes to keep them clean, glasses a little fogged up and a fleck of pancake batter on his cheek.Phichit squealed a little on the inside.

Yuuri smiled back at his boyfriend, and leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before returning to the stove to flip the sizzling pancakes.

“Hey,” Viktor said with a smile, and then sniffed.“What are you making?I could smell it from the hallway.”

“Pancakes,” Phichit answered, getting another plate from the cupboard.“You want some?”

Viktor nodded, eyes shining.“They smell so good,” he said fervently.

Phichit laughed.“Yuuri’s a pretty good cook,” he said.“Help yourself.”He gestured to the platter on the table already stacked with pancakes.

Viktor took one with a grin, and then stuffed half of it into his mouth.His eyes widened as he chewed, and then his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned.Phichit snickered behind his hand when Yuuri went red and very carefully kept his eyes on the stove.

“This is so good!” Viktor groaned, quickly eating the rest of the pancake.He draped himself over Yuuri from behind.“Can you cook breakfast for me every morning?”

Yuuri tensed a little in surprise, and then relaxed and leaned back against Viktor.“I don’t know.”His eyes darted up to meet Viktor’s, and smiled slightly.“You have chocolate on your lips,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless.

“Would you like to help me get it off?” Viktor purred, leaning closer.Without looking away from his boyfriend, Yuuri reached over and turned off the stove.

Phichit smirked and left the room to give them some privacy, although not before grabbing the plate of pancakes and his phone.

As a competitor, he didn't need to be at the competition until ten, so he hoped to get an hour or so of practice in before he had to get ready.Phichit flopped down on his bed and flipped through his sheet music while he ate his way through the plate of pancakes, occasionally writing notes in the margins.Usually he just made up whatever adjustments he wanted to do on the spot, but in a competition of high prestige like the ICC, it couldn’t hurt to be a little prepared.He wasn't allowed to have sheet music in the actual competition as per ICC rules, but writing annotations now should help him remember.

Phichit was starting in on his last pancake when his phone started to buzz.With a grin he grabbed it, figuring it was probably Yuuri telling him that it was safe to come back out to the kitchen, but to his surprise an unknown number flashed on the screen. Phichit answered it with a grunt, mouth full of pancake.

“Eh?” said the voice on the other end, sounding irritated.“Is this Chulanont?”

Phichit swallowed his mouthful of pancake.“Speaking.”

“Why aren’t Nikiforov and Katsuki picking up their phones?” the other person said, and this time Phichit recognized the Russian accent clipping the words.The voice was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Who is this?” he said suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

“Yuri Plisetsky,” said the other person.“Obviously.”

Phichit frowned, absolutely baffled.“How did you get my number?” he asked.

Plisetsky huffed impatiently.“I got your and Katsuki’s numbers ages ago, in case Viktor did something idiotic and I needed to clean up the mess.Which brings me back to my question.Why are they ignoring me?”

Phichit couched in surprise, and then answered delicately, “They’re, um… a bit distracted.”

“Doing…?” Plisetsky drawled.

Phichit rolled his eyes.“Right now?Making out in the kitchen, probably,” he said.

Plisetsky made a noise of disgust.“Figures.”

Phichit’s lips twitched into a small smile.“Do you want me to pass on a message to Viktor?” he asked.“I can talk to him once he and Yuuri are done.”

“Sure,” Plisetsky said scornfully.“Pass on a message.Tell him-”He launched into a long stream of incomprehensible Russian.The only words Phichit caught were Viktor’s name, what was either Yuuri’s or Yuri’s name, and a word he thought meant fuck.Plisetsky finished, and then said in English, “Got it?”

“Ah… maybe you should just call him later after all,” Phichit said sheepishly.

“That’s what I thought,” Plisetsky replied smugly.

There was a beat of silence, and then Phichit said, “You’re competing in the Moscow qualifier in two weeks, right?”

“Yeah, so?” Plisetsky snapped, and Phichit could perfectly picture his defensive scowl.

He smiled.“So, good luck.”

Plisetsky was quite for a long time, so long that Phichit was almost convinced he had hung up, but then the Russian boy blurted, “Good luck to you too, Chulanont,” before disconnecting the call.

Phichit looked down at the screen of his phone and grinned before saving the number under ‘Angry Russian Kitten.’Maybe Plisetsky wasn’t too bad.

***

Phichit paced in small circles, fists tightly clenched and stuffed in his pockets.He was already antsy and anxious, and the competition hadn’t even started yet.The dress pants and collared shirt that was just slightly too small didn’t do anything to help, either.He preferred casual clothes whenever possible.

“Phichit, do you need anything?” Phichit’s teacher, Satsuki, asked.

Phichit smiled nervously.“I’m alright,” he replied, and then blurted, “Wait, do they have any water?”

Satsuki nodded.“Good idea,” she said.“I’ll be back in a moment.”

Phichit watched her leave, and then leaned against the wall and tangled his fingers in his hair.He wasn’t used to being this nervous before a competition, and it didn’t help that he was the first one there, so he was alone in the staging and warm up room for the competitors.Only the New York competitors and their teachers were allowed in the staging rooms, which meant that both Viktor and Yuuri had been ushered off to the audience when Phichit had been brought to the warm up room.Phichit jiggled his leg, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Yuuri and Viktor.

 

**From: You [11:13]**

How many people r here?

 

**From: The Yuuri Meister [11:13]**

A surprising amount, we were pretty early

 

**From: You [11:14]**

Anyone u know???

 

**From: The Yuuri Meister [11:14]**

Ketty, somewhere.

 

**From: The Yuuri Meister [11:14]**

She said she’d be here, right?

 

**From: You [11:14]**

Yeah

 

**From: Viktor “Extra” Nikiforov [11:14]**

so i just saw leo and guang hong walk in together???

 

**From: Viktor “Extra” Nikiforov [11:14]**

like, TOGETHER???

 

**From: Viktor “Extra” Nikiforov [11:15]**

AS IN HOLDING HANDS???

 

**From: Viktor “Extra” Nikiforov [11:15]**

ARE THEY DATING PHICHIT?!?!?!

 

**From: You [11:15]**

Dude chill

 

**From: You [11:15]**

Idk, maybe

 

**From: The Yuuri Meister [11:16]**

I just saw Mila too

 

**From: The Yuuri Meister [11:16]**

You should see them in a second

 

“Hey, Phichit!” Guang-Hong said cheerfully, right on cue.

Phichit glanced up with a smile.“Hey, guys,” he replied.His eyes darted to Leo, standing right next to Guang-Hong.Sure enough, they were holding hands.Guang-Hong noticed him looking, and blushed delicately.From out in the hallway, Phichit heard Satsuki’s voice as she talked to another music teacher.

 

**From: You [11:17]**

Gtg, ttyl

 

**From: The Yuuri Meister [11:17]**

Good luck, Phichit!!! You’re going to do great!!!

 

**From: Viktor “Extra” Nikiforov [11:17]**

GO PHICHIT!!!!!!!!! WE’RE ROOTING FOR YOU!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE GOING TO WIN!!!!!!!!! :) :) :) :) :) :)

 

Phichit shut off his phone with a smirk, and then slipped it in his pocket as he glanced up at the other competitors.“Are you guys nervous?” he asked.

“Nah,” Mila said with a confident smile, leaning against the wall and setting her bassoon case on the ground.“I’ve got this in the bag.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Leo teased with a friendly smirk.

“I want to beat you guys,” Guang-Hong said, fidgeting with his flute case.“But let’s make this a friendly competition.”

“Obviously,” Leo said, rolling his eyes.He pecked Guang-Hong on the cheek, and the Chinese boy went red.

“I’m cool with that,” Mila agreed.“I want to win, but I don’t see that as any reason to be hostile.”

“Awesome,” Phichit agreed.“Let’s take a pre-competition photo, then.”

Mila blinked in surprise, but shrugged.Leo and Guang-Hong, who knew him a bit better, just exchanged knowing looks.The four of them took a few selfies together before Phichit’s teacher entered the room again, accompanied by a woman Phichit assumed was Guang-Hong’s teacher.

“Here you go, Phichit,” Satsuki said, holding out a paper cup of water.

“Thanks,” Phichit said, taking the offering and gulping it down.He had been parched, which was rarely a good thing to be when playing clarinet.

“You’d best start unpacking,” Guang-Hong’s teacher scolded, and the four musicians each took a separate corner of the small warm up room to unpack.

Phichit knelt on the ground and carefully undid the latches on his case.He swallowed a few times to make sure he didn’t have excess water in his mouth, and then stuck his reed between his lips before gently cleaning the parts of his clarinet and putting them together.That done, he sat against the wall and fingered some of the more difficult parts of his piece from memory.

Guang-Hong inched over from his corner of the room until he was sitting next to Phichit, clutching his flute in his hands.“Are you nervous?” he whispered.

Phichit considered that.His stomach fluttered, and his hands were a little sweaty, and his heart was going a million miles and hour, but then he remembered a tip he had read online about staving off nerves before an event or competition.“I’m not nervous,” he mumbled around his reed, and then took it out of his mouth for a moment.“I’m excited.”

Guang-Hong smiled tentatively.“That’s one way of looking at it,” he said.

“Hey, Guang-Hong,” Phichit said suddenly as an amusing thought occurred to him.

The flutist raised an eyebrow.“Yes?”

Phichit smirked.“We’re the four winds,” he said.“North.”He gestured to Mila.“South.”He patted himself in the chest.“East.”He nodded to Guang-Hong.“And West.”He pointed at Leo.

Guang-Hong rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help a snicker.“That’s so bad.”

“I’m here every day at five,” Phichit said with a dramatic bow, making Guang-Hong giggle again.“I do promise I’m funny in real life, though,” Phichit added.

Guang-Hong smiled accommodatingly before sobering and looked down at his flute, running his fingers over the silver instrument.“This is the biggest competition I’ve ever done,” he admitted.

“Me too,” Phichit said with a smile.

Guang-Hong laughed, sounding relieved.“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” he said.“I know Leo’s done it before, and I don't know Mila as well but she sounds like a veteran of the ICC.”

“I never had the time before,” Phichit admitted.“But I decided that I really wanted to make the time, before it was too late.”

“I didn’t make qualifiers last year, so I’m really happy I made it this year,” Guang-Hong said shyly.He looked down, and then said, “Phichit, I don’t know who’s going to win, but I’d like to stay in contact with everyone here.Obviously I have Leo’s number, and I already got Mila’s, but… would you like to stay in contact as well?”

Phichit gave him a wide grin.“Of course!”He stuck his reed back in his mouth and typed his number into Guang-Hong’s offered phone, ad then added, “I’ll follow you on every social media you have.”

Guang-Hong laughed.“Me too,” he agreed.A loud _blaht!_ echoed across the room, and both boys jumped.

“Sorry!” Leo called with a sheepish smile, and then blew a kiss when he saw Guang-Hong looking.Guang-Hong blushed.

“So, you and Leo?” Phichit teased, nudging his newfound friend in the ribs with his elbow.

Guang-Hong ducked his chin, but he was smiling.“Yeah,” he said.

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“Are you gonna do long distance, or…?”

Guang-Hong tapped a fingernail on his flute.“I’ve actually been considering going to America for college next year for a while now,” he admitted.“And he lives in Ohio, so if I somehow got accepted to the Cleveland Institute of Music he would only be two years ahead of me.”

Phichit nodded, smiling, and said sincerely, “I really hope that works out for you guys.You'd totally get in.”

Guang-Hong nodded.“Thanks.I hope it works out too.”He gave Phichit a bright smile, and then said, “I’ll let you warm up.I hope you do well.”

“You too,” Phichit said, returning his smile.

Guang-Hong walked back to his own space and settled on the floor before lifting his flute to his lips and puffing a few soft notes.Phichit thoughtfully shifted his reed in his mouth with his tongue as he watched Mila try to play a few notes before putting her own reed back in her mouth.Phichit smiled to himself.He had been given the opportunity to switch from clarinet to bassoon in high school, but hadn’t taken it.He still didn’t regret not switching to a double reeded instrument.One reed was _more_ than enough.

Phichit deemed his reed good enough and attached it to the mouthpiece on his clarinet before tuning with the app on his phone.That done, he quietly practiced the hardest phrases from his qualifier piece, playing just loud enough to hear himself over the others warming up.Satsuki stood against the wall near him, still talking quietly to Guang-Hong’s teacher, but Phichit didn’t try to talk to her.There was nothing more she could do for him.If his piece wasn’t ready by now, it never would be.

One of the event coordinators stuck his head into the room and announced that they had fifteen minutes left to warm up, and Phichit had to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths to convince himself that he was still excited, rather than nervous.He was stressing more than he ever thought he would, but this was also a much bigger competition than he had ever done before.

The next fifteen minutes passed in an antsy, note-filled blur, and then Satsuki was leading Phichit out of the warm up room and down the hall with the other competitors.They were shown to seats in the front row of the concert venue, and Phichit sat down between Leo and Mila.He was playing third, and the only thing he knew was that he was very, _very_ happy not to be Guang-Hong.The flutist had to go first, and looked terrified about it.

Leo gave his boyfriend a long kiss for good luck, Mila gave him a thumbs up and Phichit waved and winked.Guang-Hong walked onto the stage with shaky steps and faced the audience with the orchestra already in their seats behind him as the house lights dimmed.An announcer briefly stated Guang-Hong’s name, instrument, and the piece he was playing, some concerto by a dude named Ibert Phichit had never heard of, and then Guang-Hong was left alone in the center of the spotlights.

The Chinese boy gave the audience a small bow as they clapped politely for him, and then lifted his flute to his lips.Phichit could see his hands trembling.Guang-Hong looked to the conductor, and then at his signal the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fstMc3eRzIE%20) started.

Phichit watched with interest as Guang-Hong’s fingers flew through the notes he had to play, lips pursed as he blew.The small boy had his eyes closed as he played, swaying slightly with the music.Phichit flinched every time he made a mistake, but honestly there weren’t that many for what sounded like a very difficult piece.

Phichit glanced sideways at Leo.The American stared at Guang-Hong with wide eyes and an enraptured expression, trumpet dangling forgotten from his loose fingers.Phichit smiled to himself before turning back to the stage.

Guang-Hong played his piece with a dedication clearly borne of hours of practice, day after day, and although he made some mistakes, he finished on a high note and grinned at the audience as they burst into enthusiastic applause.Leo jumped to his feet, somehow clapping wildly even though he was still holding his trumpet, and the rest of the audience followed.

Guang-Hong took a few bows, but his smile turned a little anxious when his gaze fell on the judges at a table off to the side quietly conferring, clearly calculating his score.The applause gradually died down until Leo was the only one still quietly tapping his palms together, and the event coordinator stepped up onto the stage with a microphone.

“That was lovely,” he said with a smile at Guang-Hong, who smiled nervously back.“Well done.”He squinted at the judges’ table, and then said, “And the final score is… 77.42%!”

Guang-Hong buried his grin in his hands as the applause started again.Leo wolf-whistled.Guang-Hong walked off the stage with his flute in one hand, and was immediately tackled in a hug by his boyfriend.

“I know it wasn’t good enough to win,” Guang-Hong said, hugging Leo back.“But that’s the best I’ve ever played it.”

Leo murmured something in his ear that made the flutist blush and smile proudly.“Do well,” he said, kissing Leo before pushing him away.

Leo waved cheerfully to the other competitors before bounding up onto the stage with a spring in his step.Like Guang-Hong, his name, instrument, and piece were announced, and then he started to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT9hEFY04x4) with the orchestra.

Phichit tried to pay attention.He really did.Leo’s piece was interesting, and he was playing it really well, but Phichit couldn’t think about anything but his own anxiousness (no, excitement, _excitement_ ) and the notes of his piece.Before he knew it, Leo was finished and bowing to applause (it was Guang-Hong, this time, who started the standing ovation) and his score of 82.1% was announced.

Phichit got to his feet in a daze, accepted a high-five from Leo on the way past, and ascended the steps to the stage with wobbling legs before taking his position centerstage.He didn’t register as the coordinator told the audience that he was Phichit Chulanont, clarinet, playing Copland, and then suddenly everything was quiet.Phichit looked up with wide eyes and met the gaze of the conductor, who gave him a tiny smile before lifting his baton.And then the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GnJBLwOjFo) started.

Phichit’s fingers danced through the notes before he knew what he was doing, instinct guiding him through measure after measure until his mind caught up.He had to concentrate hard on the circular breathing that the piece necessitated, and almost slipped up a few times before he fell into the familiar rhythm.

_In.Out.In.Out.Note after note after note after note._

Phichit felt himself swaying slightly with the music, completely engrossed in the order of notes, in the sounds and the silence, in the ebb and flow of the orchestra at his back.All too soon he was reaching the cadenza, the part he had always struggled with the most.And then he was past it, through without a train wreck, and the last measure echoed through the concert venue.

There was a beat of silence, two, and then a wave of applause hit Phichit like a physical force.He lowered his clarinet, unable to control the wild, silly grin that spread across his face.Sweat beaded his forehead, his fingers ached slightly, he was more than a little out of breath, but Phichit was on top of the world.

The applause seemed to last a moment and a lifetime before the coordinated came onstage and motioned for quiet.“Astounding,” he said, grinning at Phichit.“Your final score is… 85.03%!”

Phichit nearly collapsed in relief as the audience burst into applause again.85.03%!That was higher than Leo, higher than Guang-Hong, higher than he’d ever scored before, higher than he’d ever _imagined_ he’d score.

Somehow Phichit managed to get off the stage without falling, and flopped down into his seat with a sigh of relief and a wide grin.

“Dude, that was great!” Leo whispered as Mila ascended to the stage.

Guang-Hong nodded enthusiastically, eyes shining.“You deserve every point you got,” he added.

Phichit giggled happily, but before he could say anything, thank them, the audience quieted and Mila lifted the reed of her bassoon to her lips.Phichit’s breath caught as she started to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CHCD5O3W54), deep, smooth notes echoing over the audience.The piece was clearly very complex, and Mila seemed to play each note with razor-sharp precision.If she made any technical mistakes, Phichit didn’t notice them.

Phichit gripped his clarinet in trembling hands and leaned forward in his seat, eyes wide, as Mila ran through a run without missing a note.God.Holy shit.She was good.She would be _very_ hard to beat. Phichit couldn’t help but tap a finger anxiously to the beat as Mila raced into what must have been the last few measures of the piece, because then she was finishing and the audience was standing, clapping wildly.

Phichit managed to stand, applauding numbly.He honestly had no idea what was going to happen next.Mila had to have played with near technical perfection.It would all come down to her subjective performance score.

“That was incredible,” the coordinator gushed as he took the stage next to Mila.She merely smiled, the only indication of her nerves the way she played with the collar of her long green dress.

The coordinator squinted.“Your final score is…” He paused, squinted again.

Time seemed to slow.Phichit was frozen, hands in a death grip around his clarinet.

“84.95%!” the coordinator announced.

This time Phichit did collapse, sitting down abruptly and covering his face as the first tears of joy leaked from his eyes.He had won!Leo and Guang-Hong jumped on him, yelling excitedly over the audience’s applause as the coordinator announced that Phichit Chulanont, clarinet, had won with an overall score of 85.03%.

“Phichit!” someone yelled, and Phichit looked up to see Yuuri and Viktor running towards him.Phichit braced himself as Yuuri enveloped him in an enormous bear hug, crying as well.“You won!” Yuuri whispered, and then Viktor attached himself to Phichit's other side until they were one big ball of limbs and sobbing and shouting.

Phichit sobbed with relief and happiness into his best friend’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly as he trembled.He had won.He had _won!_

Phichit Chulanont was going to the ICC finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love Phichit? Because dude... Phichit is the best. Next time is the Moscow qualifier, with our favorite Russian Punk!
> 
> (Also in case anyone's wondering, Guang-Hong qualifies for and gets fourth at the next ICC finals, gets into the college he wants in the US, and dates Leo for several years before they get married and adopt two children and a dog. So don't worry. (I was worried.) I can't help myself with these two, sue me)
> 
> I'll be back with Chapter 12 on Monday, September 4th, but after that I WILL be switching to once a week updates (on Mondays) because unfortunately school has started for me and I anticipate having a lot less free time for fun and useful activities like writing fanfics. 
> 
> Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a dazzling day, dear reader!


	12. We Compete Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuri plays in the Moscow qualifier, and old friends reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know I'm posting this pretty late, but technically I made my deadline (in my timezone) so... yay?
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuri Plisetsky’s entire being thrummed with anticipation as he stood against the wall in the warm up room he had been directed to.

The qualifier for the ICC started in less than an hour.This was his chance, this was when he was _really_ going to show everyone what he could do.He would be so amazing that everyone would forget about Viktor fucking Nikiforov.

Yuri repeated that mantra to himself as he paced in small, tight circles.He had to win.He had to prove himself.He had to beat Viktor.

He took out his phone and glanced down at the screen, which displayed several texts from Nikiforov, Chulanont, and even Katsuki, all wishing him luck in his qualifier.Yuri snorted, shoving his phone back in his pocket.He didn’t need luck, and he didn’t want their well-wishes.He could do this on his own, fueled with the power of spite.

He chewed on his lip a moment, and then pulled out his phone and typed out a brusque thanks to each before turning the device off.He needed to concentrate on the music he was going to play if he was going to succeed in his qualifier and make it to the ICC finals.After all, this was his only chance.Four of the finalists had already been chosen- violinist JJ Leroy, oboist Otabek Altin, Chulanont, and cellist Christopher Giacometti- so if he didn’t make it to the finals he had no other chance.Katsuki’s qualifier was in Japan in a week, and as much as he was loath to admit it, Yuri knew the violist had a decent chance.It would absolutely _kill_ him if Katsuki made the finals and he didn’t.So that wasn’t allowed to happen.

Yuri fidgeted, playing with the cuff of his dress shirt.It was just slightly too big, not even noticeable, but Yuri couldn’t help but feel like he was swimming in it.It made him uncomfortable.He pushed a strand of hair away from his face and sighed.He had tied his hair back for this performance, but a few stubborn hanks refused to remain in the ponytail.

He looked longingly down at his locked violin case, still unopened by his feet.Yakov had forbidden him from playing anything more than a few scales before his performance after discovering that Yuri had gotten up at four in the morning to practice.Yuri scowled.He didn’t need that old man to tell him what to do!He was perfectly capable of performing his best, even with three hours of sleep and aching fingers-

Yuri stifled a yawn into his hand, leaning against the wall, and glanced up to see Yakov approaching him with a steaming takeaway cup.

“Here,” the older man said gruffly, thrusting the cup into his hands.

Yuri took a cautious sip, wincing when the scalding coffee burnt his tongue a little.“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Yakov nodded sharply.“Hopefully that will wake you up, and you can stop walking around like a zombie,” he said with a frown.“Yura, why-”

Yuri rolled his eyes.“I needed to practice, that was all,” he interrupted.“I’m fine.You don’t have to worry about me.”

Yakov snorted.“You say that,” he said seriously.“But you look like shit.You’re going to collapse onstage if you keep pushing yourself like this.”

“How about I collapse _after_ the qualifier?” Yuri asked with a thin smile.

Yakov sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly, and mumbled something too indistinctly for Yuri to hear.“What else do you need?” he asked.

Yuri scowled.“I _need_ to practice, but I can’t do that until you give me back the key to my violin case.”

It was Yakov’s turn to smile insincerely.“You and I both know that you will make your fingers bleed if you practice any more before the competition,” he said.“You’ve been practicing hard these past months, Yura, you need to relax and mentally prepare yourself.This is the biggest competition you’ve ever competed in-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Yuri snapped, frustration and exhaustion boiling over into anger.He took a step closer, the hot drink in his hand forgotten.He was trembling, but he couldn’t be sure if it was with rage or exhaustion.“You think I don’t know that?” he repeated in a hiss.“I have been practicing more that Viktor _ever_ did in his life, I’ve worked myself to the bone, and you think I don’t _know_ that?If I win, it will be no thanks to you and your stupid restrictions on my practice.It will be _me.”_

Yakov glared coldly at him.“I will be back in half an hour to unlock your case so you can tune your violin,” he said flatly, and then turned on his heel and stalked out.

Yuri snarled wordlessly before slumping against the wall again and taking another sip of the hot coffee, barely fazed by the bitter taste.As the caffeine began to kick in he started to regret what he had said to Yakov, just a little, but now it was too late to apologize.He’d just look stupid.

Yuri closed his eyes and sat down, leaning his head back against the wall as he cradled the cup of coffee in his hands.He had gotten up far too early that morning after barely sleeping the night before, but he refused to let the exhaustion catch up with him quite yet.What he had said to Yakov was true.He could pass out after the competition, but not until then.

“Are you another one of the competitors?” someone asked in English, and Yuri opened his eyes to see a man with dramatic eyeshadow looming over him, looking down at him with a vague air of disapproval.Yuri blinked in surprise.Didn’t the violin at his side give it away?The man stared at him, and then said in a slow, almost patronizing way, “You do speak English, correct?”This time, Yuri didn’t miss the Russian accent.

“Yes, I speak English,” he said, getting to his feet.

The man’s expression cleared.“Good.”He pursed his lips, and then said, “I hear an accent.Russian?”

“Da,” Yuri replied sullenly, and took a long sip of his coffee.He wished it was vodka.

The man grinned.“Wonderful!” he said dramatically as he switched to Russian, pressing his hands to his chest.“It’s wonderful to have a fellow countryman to compete against at last!”

Yuri gave him a strange look.“We’re in Moscow,” he pointed out flatly.

The man just shrugged.“The only other competitor I’ve talked to so far was Italian,” he replied, and then eyed Yuri curiously.“How old are you?” he asked.“You seem quite young to be competing in such a prestigious competition.”

Yuri bristled.“I’m sixteen,” he snapped.“Which is more than old enough to play better that _you._ ”

The man just snorted, unfazed.“Violinist?” he said, glancing down at Yuri’s case by his feet.He snorted.“Figures.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes.“What is that supposed to mean?” he said sharply.

The man shrugged.“You violinists all have enormous egos,” he said thoughtfully, nodding to himself.“Even Viktor Nikiforov. _Especially_ Nikiforov.”

Yuri scoffed.While it wasn’t true that _all_ violinists had egos, Viktor certainly did.“And what do you play,” he sneered disdainfully.“The _viola?”_

“I play the string bass,” the man said primly, and then extended his hand.“I’m Georgi.”Yuri blinked slowly at him.Georgi slowly lowered his hand, eyes narrowing.“I guess that would make you Yuri Plisetsky, then,” he said, voice a little cold.

“And?” Yuri said in a bored voice, very deliberately taking a long sip of coffee.

“I looked at the qualifier list,” Georgi said.His lip curled.“I didn’t expect you to be so young.  Or so _rude.”_

“I wasn’t the one who started this conversation,” Yuri said calmly, but his irritation flared.He was running on three hours of sleep, and his felt sick to his stomach with nerves and anticipation.He didn’t have the energy or the mentality to deal with this.

Georgi wrinkled his nose.“I’m going to warm up,” he said coldly, and Yuri looked past him to see an enormous, bass-sized case leaning against the wall.“And for the record, you look like shit,” Georgi snapped before whirling around and flouncing over to his instrument.

Yuri made a rude gesture at his back before sitting back down and looking longingly at his violin case.He _really_ wanted to practice, to go over his piece before the competition started.Fuck what Yakov thought.Maybe he could pick the lock on his case with his… teeth?Yuri huffed in irritation and drained the last of his coffee, anxiously tapping a finger on his knee.

He sat silently, staring at the floor, as the three remaining competitors trickled into the warmup room and unpacked.Soon enough the small chamber was ringing with the sound of a bass, a trombone, a piccolo, and a harp all warming up.Yuri’s fingers twitched with need.He absently tapped out the rhythm to his piece.

“Plisetsky.”

Yuri glanced up at he heard his name, barely audible through the dim of the other musicians warming up.Lilia Baranovskaya, a world-famous former prima ballerina and Yakov’s estranged wife, stood in the doorway.When Yuri met her eyes, she beckoned.Yuri scowled, but got to his feet and grabbed his violin case.He knew better than to disobey Lilia.He crumpled the styrofoam coffee cup in his fist and tossed it in the bin by the door before meeting Lilia.

“What?” he snapped, shifting his case to his other hand.

Lilia frowned sternly down at him.“I’d watch your tone, Yuri Plisetsky,” she said in her usual flat, clipped voice.Her expression softened almost imperceptibly.“There’s someone here to see you.”

Yuri frowned, but followed her as she led him out of the warmup room and into the hallway.Lilia gestured around the corner, and lifted her eyebrow slightly.“Well?”

Yuri squinted at her before rounding the corner to find Yakov and his grandfather waiting for him.“Grandpa!” Yuri gasped before setting his violin down with a clatter and walking briskly towards the old man.

“Yurochka,” Nikolai Plisetsky said with a fond, affectionate smile, eyes crinkling along ancient laugh lines.

Nikolai had recovered surprisingly well after his fall in the winter that had broken his hip, but he was still damaged, even four months later.His brittle bones would probably never heal completely, the doctors had told Yuri, but he wasn't not going to die.He might be able to walk a little in the future, but not long distances.

Yuri had to crouch a little in order to hug his wheelchair bound grandfather“Yura,” Nikolai said softly, one arm coming up to rest across Yuri’s shoulders.

“What are you doing here, Grandpa?” Yuri asked, pulling back a little but crouching by the wheelchair so that they were face to face.

Nikolai gave him that fond smile again.“Did you really think I would miss your performance, Yurochka?” he asked.He tapped one ear, and added, “I may not be able to hear every note, but I will be able to see you just fine.I will be able to see as they give you the gold medal.”

Yuri chuckled.“I don’t think they have medals at the qualifiers, Grandpa,” he said with a smile.“I don’t even know if they do that at the finals, either.”

Nikolai patted his grandson on the shoulder.“Regardless.”

Yakov, who had been standing behind Nikolai’s wheelchair after evidently having wheeled him in, offered Yuri a sharp nod before walking off in Lilia’s direction.The two disappeared around the corner, and then Yuri turned back to his grandfather.“I’m glad you’re here, Grandpa,” he said.“But I’m a bit surprised.Why didn’t anyone say anything?”

Nikolai laughed.“I wanted to come, of course,” he said.“You’re competing in Moscow!Of course I wanted to!Yakov called me a few days ago and suggested we make a surprise of it.”

Yuri smiled, eyes prickling a little.“How are you feeling, Grandpa?” he asked.“Are you doing alright?”

“I’m doing normal, Yurochka,” Nikolai said with a smile.“You have nothing to worry about with me.”

Yuri smiled a little nervously.After his injury, Nikolai had moved into assisted living and Yuri had moved into the spare room at Yakov’s house, ostensibly so that he could get more practice in, but in reality because Yakov was almost like another overbearing, strict, argumentative parent.Yuri had last visited his grandfather a few days ago, and hadn’t expected him to come to the competition.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking down, but he couldn’t hide behindhis hair.

Nikolai’s smile softened into kind understanding.“Of course, Yurochka,” he said.“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

They stayed like that in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying each other’s company, until a hand came down on Yuri’s shoulder.“You should start to warm up, Yura,” Yakov said gruffly, but the soft expression in his eyes betrayed him.He didn't seem to be mad at Yuri. Yuri straightened, and Yakov wordlessly handed him the key to unlock his violin case, which was still sitting almost forgotten to the side.

“Good luck, Yurochka,” Nikolai said, gripping Yuri's hand hard.

Yuri smiled, and pressed a dry kiss to the top of his grandfather’s head.“Thank you, Grandpa,” he replied.“I’ll see you after the competition.”Lilia came over and took hold of Nikolai’s wheelchair, steering him away, presumably to their seats.

“Come, Yura,” Yakov ordered, gesturing for Yuri to walk with him back to the warmup room.

Yuri scuffed his foot, cleared his throat, and then muttered, “Um, thanks.You know.For that.”

Yakov looked to the heavens like he was praying for patience.“Of course, Yura.”

Yuri fiddled with the key in his hand as they entered the warmup room again, and then knelt down against the wall and unlocked his case.“Do your scales, and then practice from measure seventy four,” Yakov instructed.“I’ll be back in a moment.” He walked off again, and Yuri gently, almost reverently, lifted his violin out of its case.He plucked the strings, and then tuned his A with a small frown.

“Finally deign to warm up with us?” someone said from behind him, and Yuri glanced over to see Georgi standing over him again, an arm slung around the body of his bass.Yuri rolled his eyes and ignored him, tuning his D string.Georgi snorted, and loudly strummed his own strings when Yuri went to tune his G.

Yuri looked up in irritation.“Can you not?”

Georgi snorted.“Why not?Can’t tune unless it’s silent?”

“Your dissonance irritates me,” Yuri informed him.“Your A is at 438, not 440.And the rest of your strings are slightly sharp.”

Georgi blinked at him.“What?”

“You didn’t check?” Yuri sneered, fiddling with the peg of his E string without looking down.“My teacher says at least one of the judges always has perfect pitch, and the rest will have tuners.How stupid can you be that you don’t even check your strings before performing?”

Georgi went red.“I checked,” he snapped.

Yuri snorted, and then gently strummed all of the strings of his violin before putting it down and taking out his bow.“Then your tuner is shit.”

“You- you’re shit!” Georgi spluttered.

Yuri just blinked innocently at him.“Maybe,” he said.“But I’m a shit with perfect pitch.”

Georgi scowled, but said in a surprisingly civil voice, “Are you being serious.”

Yuri rolled his eyes again.“I don’t lie about music,” he said bluntly.“When I win, I want it to be fair and square, not because of your shitty tuner.”

“Arrogant bastard,” Georgi said with a frown, but turned and lumbered back to his area of the room with his bass.Yuri smiled thinly when he saw the older man take out a tuner and quietly tune his bass again.

“Excuse me?” 

Yuri looked up to see a young woman standing in front of him.She was one of the other competitors, the harpist, and so far she hadn’t done anything to piss him off, so he was polite.“Yeah, what?” Yuri said.

The harpist knelt down next to him and smoothed her skirt before saying, “I couldn't help but overhear that you have perfect pitch.Would you check my instrument as well?”

Yuri scowled, but jerked his chin in a sharp nod.“Fine.Whatever.”He followed the harpist across the room, and waited impatiently as she sat and then gently strummed her strings for him.Yuri listened to the gentle waterfall of notes, and then shrugged with a scowl.“Sounds fine to me,” he said irately.

“Thank you,” the harpist said with a smile.

“Hey, am I in tune?” one of the other competitors asked with an Italian accent, and then blasted a note out of his trombone.

Yuri winced, covering one ear with his free hand.“What the fuck, does no one here have a tuner?” he snapped.

“Evidently not as accurate as you,” the harpist said with a laugh.

Yuri huffed.“I’m going to warm up, you losers will need to find another human tuner,” he snapped, and stalked back to his case.He stood against the wall and picked up his violin, lifting it to rest on his shoulder, and then quickly played a scale before grabbing his rosin.After rosining his bow sufficiently, he ran through the scale again with much more satisfactory results.That done, he bowed through a few more difficult scales before picking up his piece from measure seventy four like Yakov had instructed.His teacher came back after twenty measures, and put a hand over the neck of Yuri’s violin to muffle the strings and stop him from playing.

“That’s enough,” he said.

“I’m fine,” Yuri snapped, scowling furiously.

Wordlessly, Yakov tapped his left elbow.Flushed, Yuri lifted it to the correct height, shifting his violin under his chin a little more.Nodding in satisfaction, Yakov crossed his arms.“Play measures twenty to twenty four,” he said.Yuri frowned, but did as he instructed.“Now beat two of measure sixty to the ‘and’ of one in measure sixty two,” Yakov said.Yuri scowled at him, but played.Yakov twitched his head impatiently.“Thirteen to the slurs,” he said.Yuri played, and then removed his violin from under his chin and scowled furiously.

“Why are you doing this?” he snapped.“You’re wasting my time!”

Yakov studied him, completely unperturbed.“I have had more than enough musicians go onstage to perform only to realize that in their panic and anxiety they can’t remember their piece,” he said flatly.

Yuri tried to hide the flash of fear that made his stomach churn at Yakov’s words.He wasn’t that sort of musician.He knew that.He didn't choke, he didn’t panic, he didn’t freak out and forget the notes he had burned into his memory after months of practice.He simply wasn’t like that.

“Yura, calm down,” Yakov said, and Yuri realized his breathing had quickened.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.“I’m fine.I’m fine.I’m fine.”

Yakov nodded in agreement.“You will be, if you take a deep breath.”Yuri squeezed his eyes shut.“I see that was the wrong approach,” Yakov grumbled, and then awkwardly patted Yuri on the shoulder.“Yura,” he said in a quiet voice, unusually gentle.“You have nothing to worry about.You’re a better musician than the rest of the competitors.You have no reason to panic.”

“I’m not panicking,” Yuri said through gritted teeth.He took another shaky breath and focused on his goal.He was going to win his qualifier by a landslide, and then win the ICC by an even bigger landslide.He imagined the shock on Viktor and Katsuki’s faces.Maybe Chulanont could post a picture of Katsuki’s defeat on his Instagram.It would be better than the hamster pictures and selfies he usually had.The knot in his throat lessened slightly, and Yuri opened his eyes to see Yakov studying him with what would have been an impassive expression if the worry shining in his eyes wasn’t obvious.

“When am I playing?” Yuri asked.

Yakov glanced down at his watch, and then said, “First performer is on in fifteen minutes, so you’ll be taken to be seated any second now.You’re last, due to your score in Russian Nationals.”

Yuri nodded sharply.“I’m going to practice,” he said, turning away a little.“Tell me when they call for us.”

Yakov looked like he wanted to protest, but merely shrugged.Yuri lifted his violin again as his eyes fluttered closed, and softly bowed through one of the more difficult passages in his piece from memory.He was only slightly startled when Yakov tapped him on the shoulder, dropping his phone in his music case and locking it before silently following the older man down a narrow hallway with the other competitors and into the concert hall.

The first musician, the harpist, was already onstage.Just as Yuri sat down, the house lights dimmed and the audience started to clap.Yuri didn't even bother to try, keeping a firm hold on his violin and doing his best to keep calm.

Next to him, Georgi hissed, “I find it hard to believe that _you_ were the highest scoring musician to be in this qualifier.”

“84.89%,” Yuri whispered back, letting a smug smile curl his lips.

Georgi blinked at him, but wasn’t able to say anything before the audience fell silent and the harpist began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUrvEOeNp1I%20).Yuri leaned back and let the music wash over him, abandoning his own worries for the time being, but by the time Georgi took the stage his heart was back to racing and his breathing had shortened again.Georgi’s [piece](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8qfncdA0RI%20) passed in a blur, and before Yuri knew it they were announcing his score (82.34%) and Yuri was on his feet and walking zombie-like to the stage.

Georgi gave him an almost respectful nod as they passed each other, the older man lugging his bass and Yuri with his violin in a death grip, and then Yuri was onstage in the spotlight and the audience was quiet.

He glanced at the conductor, who nodded curtly.

Yuri raised his violin to his shoulder and flexed his right wrist to loosen it.

He set his bow on the strings.

And blanked.

Every note of music he had ever learned in his entire life drained out of his memory.He doubted he could even play a D major scale.How did one play the note D on a violin?Yuri didn’t know.

He knew subconsciously that his moment of confusion was less than a second, but in the moment it felt like a year and a day.Everyone knew how badly he had messed up.Everyone _knew._

Yuri’s panicked gaze skittered across the dimmed audience, taking in all the people who were witness to his failure.And then off to the side he saw a dark shape.A man sitting in a wheelchair, two taller figures behind him.

Music burst into Yuri’s mind and he started [playing](https://youtu.be/VEbyyqyKtM0) with little warning.Luckily, the orchestra was experienced enough that it didn’t cause any problems, and Yuri was able to lose himself in the familiar rhythm.

Line followed line, measure followed measure, note followed note, and he had no idea how he had ever forgotten the peaks and valleys of the piece he had literally bled and cried for.It consumed him, and Yuri let the music take him over, but unlike his last performance he was completely aware of everyone’s eyes on him.He reveled in it.They all watched as he hit note after note perfectly, in excellent tempo, not even stumbling on one of the hardest parts.But most of the people in the audience didn’t matter.The only people watching that mattered were Lilia,Yakov,Nikolai Plisetsky.They would see as he showed everyone just what a good musician he could be.They were who he was playing for.

And then the piece was over, and he was left panting with unexpected exertion, frozen in the moment of awed silence before the applause started.Yuri flinched, startled at the loud noise, and then straightened and lifted his chin proudly as he lowered his violin and bowed deeply to the audience.

The event coordinator came onstage, said something nice about his playing, and then waited for silence before announcing, “And Yuri Plisetsky’s score is… 87.4%!Yuri Plisetsky has blown away his nearest competition by 5.06%!”

Yuri swallowed numbly, only half processing what he was hearing.He had won.He had won the qualifier.He was going to the finals of the ICC.Of course, he had hoped this would be the outcome, desperately prayed, wished on every star he saw, but somehow it was different when he had actually done it.He had _won._ Yuri was completely blindsided.

Somehow he managed to accept the event coordinator’s enthusiastic praise and congratulations before staggering off the stage to meet Yakov, Lilia, and most importantly, his grandfather.

“Grandpa!” Yuri gasped as what had happened started to sink in.“I… I won!”

“I saw you, Yurochka!” Nikolai exclaimed, grinning with abandon.He grabbed Yuri’s free hand and gripped it hard, beaming.“I’m so proud of you, Yurochka!”Yuri beamed back as a single happy tear slid down his cheek.Nikolai wiped it away with a thumb, and then said, “I’m tired, Yurochka, and I need to go back home, but will you come and visit me tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Yuri said immediately.Nikolai smiled, and gave Yuri’s hands one last squeeze before letting go.

“Congratulations, Yuri,” Lilia said with a small nod.“I’ll drive your grandfather home.”

Yuri nodded.  "Thanks.”

Yakov beckoned Yuri out a door on the side.“Let’s get your instrument packed up,” he said gruffly.“You need to come home and sleep.”

Yuri nodded.He was tired, but his mind buzzed with the adrenaline from winning.He could probably last another few hours before he collapsed.

Yuri wordlessly followed Yakov back to the warmup room, nodding in polite acknowledgement when the other competitors congratulated him, and ignoring Georgi’s glare.He knelt by his case and removed his phone, glancing at the ecstatic texts from Viktor, Katsuki, and Chulanont, and then carefully cleaned the rosin off his instrument before putting it away in his case.By the time he was done, he and Yakov were the only ones left in the warmup room.

Yuri got to his feet and glanced at Yakov, who was scrolling through his email.“Vitya keeps sending me messages,” he grumbled, and then glanced sideways at Yuri.“Please answer him sometime today, or he won’t leave me alone.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, but nodded.“He’s already sent me sixteen texts,” he said.“Most of them are just incoherent screaming."

Yakov sighed.“Ready?” he said.

Yuri nodded, leading the way out the door.And then he froze.Leaning against the wall across from the door was a tall boy with a dark undercut and a leather jacket.His head had been leaned back as he stared at the ceiling with his arms crossed, but as Yuri stepped out of the warmup room his gaze met Yuri’s.

“Altin,” Yuri said slowly, eyes widening.Without looking away, Yuri bent down to set his violin case on the ground.

“Plisetsky,” Otabek Altin said cooly, dark eyes fixed on Yuri.

At the sound of Otabek’s voice, Yakov glanced up from his phone and rolled his eyes.He bent down to pick up Yuri’s violin case, and then said, “Text me your plans.”

Yuri nodded, and with that Yakov walked off at a brisk pace.“It’s been a while,” Yuri said levelly once they were alone.

Otabek’s face was as impassive as ever as he surveyed Yuri, and then his posture relaxed.One of his eyebrows twitched up slightly, his version of a delighted grin.“Too long.I’ve missed you, Yura.”

Yuri smiled, and stepped forward to embrace his best friend.“I’ve missed you too, Beka.” Otabek chuckled low in his throat, giving Yuri a small squeeze before letting go.

“What are you doing here?” Yuri asked, planting one hand on his hip.

Otabek gave him the tiniest smile.“Let’s say I’m scouting out the competition,” he said, and then nodded.“Congratulations on your win.”

“And you on yours,” Yuri returned.

Otabek scratched his cheek, and then said, “Would you like to catch up, Yura?I haven’t seen you since… was that Europeans?”

“No, that little exhibition in Scandinavia last July,” Yuri reminded him, and Otabek nodded.

“That’s right,” he said and then shrugged slightly.“Coffee?You look awful.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Everyone’s saying that today.”

“Good to know everyone’s consistent, then,” Otabek grumbled.

“Coffee sounds good, just let me text Yakov,” Yuri said, pulling out his phone.He sent Yakov a quick text, and then fell into step with Otabek and left the building through one of the back entrances.

"So why have you decided to forgo sleep?" Otabek asked as they walked.

Yuri frowned."Practice is more important," he said resolutely.

Otabek made an unconvinced noise as they stepped outside.He held the door open for Yuri, and then said bluntly, "You look like a stiff breeze could blow you over."

Yuri rolled his eyes."Thanks for the vote of confidence," he grumbled."I have _such_ great friends."

Otabek looked at him with serious dark eyes."Yura," he started.

"Don't start scolding me, asshole, or I'll start calling you Yakov," Yuri snapped, interrupting him.He took a deep breath, and let it out through his nose."Sorry," he mumbled.Otabek waited, sensing he wasn't finished."I'm under a lot of stress right now," Yuri finally said as they stopped at a corner to wait to cross the street."I... I _needed_ to win, Beka.For the prize money, sure, it will be helpful in paying off our bills and my grandfather's hospital fees, but... I needed to prove myself.More than anything."

Otabek frowned."So much so that you feel the need to run yourself into the ground?" he asked.Yuri bit the inside of his cheek and didn't answer.

They reached a small coffee shop and went in, leaving the conversation until they were seated together at a small table in the back of the cafe, both cupping hot drinks."Does this have to do with Viktor?" Otabek asked quietly, taking a small sip of his drink.

Yuri winced.He and Otabek texted and talked all the time, but Yuri had intentionally kept his resentment and anger to himself.Figures that Otabek would eventually find out anyway.Sometimes Yuri was convinced his friend knew him too well.

Yuri and Otabek had been friends since Yuri was nine and Otabek was eleven, and they had become friends unusually quickly.Otabek had been in Moscow to study with an oboist in the Russian National Orchestra for a year, and during that time had gone to Yuri's school.Otabek had been the only one who didn't expect a nine year old Yuri, who had already begun to repeat the curses Viktor and Yakov muttered when thought no one was listening, to be a sweet, innocent little boy.In exchange, Yuri was one of the few people who didn't force Otabek to talk, and wasn't intimidated by his general lack of expression.Even after Otabek had gone back to Kazakhstan, the two had stayed in contact via texting and Skype.Once they both started to compete and perform internationally they met each other in person a lot more, as they participated in many of the same events and competitions.Otabek was probably the one person Yuri wouldn't mind losing the ICC to, and the one person besides his grandfather that he wanted to talk to, but Yuri was quickly revising that opinion.

"Not everything has to do with Viktor fucking Nikiforov," Yuri snapped.

Otabek just took another sip of his drink, somehow managing to convey his doubt without saying a word.Whoever thought he was inexpressive clearly didn't know him well.

Yuri sighed, downing a third of his drink in one go to distract himself."Viktor is so annoying!" he found himself whining."He waltzes off to America to teach some random violist, and expects me to still be his best friend!"

Otabek raised an eyebrow."I wouldn't say Katsuki is "some random violist," Yura," he said mildly.

Yuri blushed a little."What?"

Otabek chuckled."Yura, we Skyped three days ago," he said."Don't think I missed the Katsuki Yuuri poster on the inside of your closet door."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Yuri grumbled unconvincingly.

Otabek ignored the lie."Your secret is out, Yura," he said solemnly."You're a closet Katsuki fan."

Yuri groaned."You're awful," he said.

Otabek cracked a small grin."Maybe."

Yuri looked up, and glared at his friend."Fine," he said grudgingly."Katsuki isn't a bad musician.I'm not so arrogant that I can't admit that.But I'd say calling me a _fan_ is going a bit far."

Again, Otabek looked unconvinced, but didn't press the issue."So is it to do with Viktor?" Otabek asked."Your drive to win?"

Yuri sighed."Partly," he admitted."I want to be the best.And part of that is beating Viktor if he ever comes back to competition."

"You say ever like it might not happen," Otabek said slowly.

Yuri sighed."I don't know," he said."The chances of him actually coming back to Russia get smaller and smaller every day."

Otabek frowned."Why is that?"

Yuri stared at him."You haven't heard?" He said incredulously."He and Katsuki are dating.They're absolutely smitten with each other.Chulanont posts about it on Instagram all the time, it's disgusting."

"Hmm," Otabek murmured."No, I hadn't heard that.Interesting."

"It's gross," Yuri said dismissively."I don't know what he sees in him!"

Otabek raised an eyebrow."I thought you admired Katsuki."

"I do!" Yuri exclaimed, not even bothered by the fact that he had openly declared his admiration."I have no idea what Katsuki sees in Viktor!You know what Viktor's like, Beka.He's awful most of the time."He shuddered."I pity Katsuki if they ever get married, then there'd really be no getting rid of Viktor."

Otabek watched him with a small, amused smile."It's good that you're following Chulanont on Instagram to keep tabs on your friend," he said."Have you texted Viktor at all?"

Yuri snorted."He texts me almost as much as you text me," he said."But his are a lot less interesting."

Otabek's smile got a little bigger."That's good," he said again."I'm glad you're lot alone here."

"Of course I'm not fucking alone, I live in a city," Yuri mumbled, but he knew what Otabek was trying to say.It could be lonely.Communication with people he cared about, even if it was over text, was good.

The two talked for a while as they sipped their drinks, until Otabek noticed the yawns Yuri was stifling and hiding behind his cup."You should go home to take a nap, Yura, you really look like you need it," he said.

Yuri sighed."But I just met up with you again!"

Otabek smiled."I'll be in Moscow for a few more days until I need to go back to Kazakhstan to start practicing for the ICC," he said."And besides, we'll see each other at the finals in a month anyways."

"Yeah," Yuri said reluctantly.

Otabek laughed softly as he got to his feet, throwing his empty cup in the trash.

"I'll text you tomorrow, once I've had some sleep," Yuri promised, also standing."I can show you around Moscow."

"Sounds good," Otabek said with a sharp nod.His eyes sparkled."Would you like me to call you a taxi, Yura?" he teased.

Yuri glared at him."It's not even three in the afternoon, and I'm not fucking drunk," Yuri grumbled, but he gave Otabek an extra hard squeeze when the two hugged outside of the cafe to say goodbye."I'll see you tomorrow," Yuri said with a small wave.

"Actually sleep!" Otabek ordered."No practicing, ICC finalist."

Yuri smiled in spite of himself."Yeah, yeah," he said, turning away."I'll see you."

Otabek gave him a wave over his shoulder before walking off in the direction of where Yuri assumed his hotel was.Yuri walked in the opposite direction.

Yakov didn't actually live far, maybe a ten minute walk, and Yuri did his best not to get lost on the way.His thoughts were fuzzy as the caffeine from the coffee he had had earlier began to wear off, and the exhaustion caught up to him, so the walk felt more like a dream than anything.

Yuri let himself in through the front, closing the door behind him.Yakov called out a question from the other room, but Yuri answered with a promise to talk later before staggering off to his room.He let himself into the small bedroom without turning in a lamp, and just barely made it to the bed before collapsing on it and falling asleep.

He dreamed of winning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the observant among you will have noticed that, more than halfway through this big ass fic, I've finally gotten my shit together and decided on a chapter count for this story. Right now it's plotted to be 20 chapters. That's not to say we might not pick up a chapter if I decide to be super longwinded with the fluff, but as things are right now I have 20 chapters total outlined, including the epilogue.
> 
> Also, due to a drastic decrease in my free time due to the unfortunate institution called school, I will be switching to updates once a week, on Mondays. Therefore, I shalt deliver the next chapter on Monday the 11th, hopefully a little earlier in the day than this.
> 
> Feel free to ask questions/comment if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), hope you enjoyed, and have a sublime day, dear reader!


	13. The L Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is lots of fluff to go with lots of hours on a plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gives myself a week to write the chapter*  
> *writes the entire chapter Sunday afternoon*
> 
> Possible trigger warning... maybe? Mentions of fear of flying and the low possibility of a hypothetical plane crash. It's like two sentences, hopefully it won't be an issue.
> 
> Other than that, I think the chapter title says it all... Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“Yuuri, I’m so sorry,” Phichit said again, clinging to Yuuri as the three stood in the concourse of the airport, surrounded by luggage.

Viktor had never been one to pack light, especially since they were going to Japan for two weeks, and Yuuri hadn’t managed to condense everything he needed all that successfully either.Between their suitcases, Viktor’s satchel, and Yuuri’s backpack and viola, Viktor was sure they looked like they were moving somewhere for a year, not two weeks.But it was completely unrealistic to expect Viktor to go without a hairdryer for so long, so therefore the luggage was necessary.

Viktor looked on with a smile as Yuuri hugged his friend again, burying his face in his shoulder. “Phichit, I completely understand,” he promised, voice slightly muffled.

“I still feel bad about it, thought,” Phichit murmured, fingers digging into Yuuri’s fleece.He let go of Yuuri and stepped back.

“I promise you I’m not offended,” Yuuri said with a smile, running his fingers through his hair and making it stick up in front.Viktor barely kept himself from cooing out loud.He would have plenty of time on the plane flight.“You made the finals!” Yuuri told Phichit with a bright, proud smile.“Of course you need to practice.I don’t expect you to sabotage yourself to fly to a foreign country with me.”

Phichit scuffed the floor of the airport with his shoe, and then glanced out the wide bay windows they stood in front of.“I’m glad you’re not going alone, though,” he said quietly, warm gaze landing on Viktor.

Viktor smiled at him and put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulders.“I’ll make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble,” he said with a laugh.

Yuuri rolled his eyes.“I’m the one who actually speaks Japanese and is familiar with the local customs,” he pointed out.“I’ll probably play babysitter more than you.”

Phichit grinned at them.“You’ll call me?” he said, and Yuuri nodded.

“As soon as we land, so long as it’s a reasonable hour back in New York and I'm a functional human being,” he confirmed.  "So, actually, no promises."

Phichit turned his attention to Viktor.“And you’ll record him and email it to me?” he pressed.

Viktor nodded quickly.“Of course,” he said, and then sighed happily, clasping his hands together under his chin.“I’ll want a recording too.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Yuuri mumbled, elbowing Viktor, but he was blushing.Viktor retaliated with a kiss to the top of his head.

“When does your plane take off?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri glanced at his watch, absently tapping a finger on the handle of his suitcase.“We take off at six tonight,” he said.“We have a few hours to check in and get something to eat before we need to board.”

Phichit smiled slightly.“Then I should probably let you go, I know how stressful airports are for you.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said.He hugged his friend again, and then to Viktor’s surprise, Phichit turned and hugged him as well.

“Have a good time,” he said, and then whispered in Viktor’s ear, “Make sure he eats and sleeps enough.”

“Yep,” Viktor agreed, and then Phichit let go.“Don’t forget to walk Makka,” Viktor said seriously.

Phichit gasped.“I would never!”He grinned.“Do’t worry, Viktor, I’ll treat her like a queen.She’ll be so spoiled when you and Yuuri get back that you won't know what to do.”

Viktor chuckled.“Thanks.”

“I’ll talk to you later," Phichit promised, turning his attention to Yuuri.“You’re going to do amazing, Yuuri!”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said shyly, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

Phichit grinned.“I have to go,” he said, and then gave Yuuri one last hug.

“Come on,” Viktor said with a laugh.

Yuuri smiled at him, and grabbed his hand, bending over to pick up his viola case.“Happy practicing, Phichit,” he said, and then glanced over his shoulder one last time as he and Viktor walked towards the baggage checking desk. They checked their suitcases, glad to be rid of most of their luggage for the time being, and then walked towards security.

“Are you excited?” Viktor asked as they joined the end of a short line.

Yuuri swung their interconnected hands, bottom lip pushed out thoughtfully.“I think so,” he said after a moment as they shuffled forward.He paused another moment, and then added, “I’m definitely nervous.But I think I’m excited, too.I’m looking forward to seeing my family again.”

“That’s good, Yuura,” Viktor said quietly.He smiled brightly at his boyfriend.“I’m really looking forward to meeting your family!”

Yuuri laughed.“I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“I hope so,” Viktor agreed, giving Yuuri a small kiss.

Yuuri kissed back, and then tapped his arm when Viktor pulled away.“How’s your wrist feeling?” he asked.

Viktor smiled slightly and flexed his left wrist.“It’s feeling fine,” he said.“It was a little stiff yesterday, but after I put the heating pad on it for a while it was fine.”

“I’m glad,” Yuuri said, standing on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek just as they reached the small podium where a guard would check their papers.Viktor let go of Yuuri’s hand to fumble in his satchel for his and Yuuri’s passports before handing them to the official.

“Viktor… Nikiforov?” the airport official said, glancing down at Viktor’s passport.

Viktor smiled and nodded.“That’s me!” he chirped.

The official looked over Yuuri, and then nodded.“Katsuki Yuuri?” he said, and then handed the passport back to Yuuri when the Japanese man nodded.The official glanced down at Yuuri’s viola case.“What’s in the case?” he asked.

“It’s a viola,” Yuuri told him in a soft voice, sliding his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a finger.“I’m a professional musician.”

“Just make sure it goes through the X Ray machine,” the official said in a bored voice, and then waved them through.They went through the metal detectors at security and then picked up their bags and Yuuri’s viola, which no one seemed particularly suspicious of.

“Where do you want to eat?” Viktor asked, taking Yuuri’s hand again after they had put on their shoes and Yuuri had shrugged his fleece back over his shoulders.

“I don’t care," Yuuri said softly, leaning his head against Viktor’s shoulder.

“How does pizza sound?” Viktor asked, kissing Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri nodded.

“Sounds good to me.”

The two found a reasonably quick restaurant and sat down to eat.As Yuuri nibbled at his pizza, Viktor reached out and took his hand.“How do you feel about planes, Yuura?” he asked.

Yuuri looked down at their interlaced fingers.“I’m fine with planes,” he admitted.“I’ve never really had an issue with them.How about you?”

Viktor made a face.“They’re not my favorite,” he said in a low voice.“But I’ll manage.Don’t worry about me.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri said quietly, and reached out to take Viktor’s other hand, preventing him from anxiously tapping his fingers on the table.“You would tell me if something was wrong, right?” Yuuri said worriedly.

Viktor gave him a small smile.“Of course, solnyshko.”Yuuri studied him with a small frown, but didn’t press the issue.Viktor was grateful.He wasn’t the biggest fan of planes, but with Yuuri there he was sure he would be fine.

They finished their meal and wandered hand in hand in the direction of their gate.“What gate number are we again?” Yuuri asked, shifting his viola case in his hand as he squeezed Viktor’s fingers.

“76,” Viktor answered absently, more concerned with the soft, cheerful light in Yuuri’s eyes than silly things like gates.

Yuuri stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, to the dismay of several travelers.“Vitya, we’re going the wrong way,” he said and tugged Viktor around and pulling him to the side so they could reorient themselves.

“Sorry,” Viktor said with a flirtatious smile.“I got lost in your eyes.”

Yuuri groaned and hid his face against Viktor’s shoulder for a moment.“Why am I dating you again?”

“Because I’m fabulous and you love me,” Viktor said cheerfully, and then his eyes widened as he realized what he had said.

He knew he loved Yuuri more than he had ever loved someone, and he knew that Yuuri loved him as well, but they had never said the words out loud to each other.Viktor knew Yuuri was anxious, and his anxiety probably kept him from saying the L-word out loud, and Viktor didn’t want him to feel obligated.He didn’t need verbal confirmation to know how much Yuuri cared about him.It was evident enough in the other’s looks, and touches, and kisses, and even the way he needlessly worried about Viktor leaving.Viktor had given into the temptation once or twice and said the words in Russian, knowing that Yuuri wouldn’t understand, and had whispered a confession once when Yuuri had fallen asleep on the couch during movie night, but this… this was different.

“Yuuri, I…” Viktor said softly, and then trailed off.He wasn’t sure how to fix things.Yuuri was only sporadically skittish, and he couldn’t tell if Yuuri was in an anxious mindset.

Viktor looked down at the top of his boyfriend’s head as they stopped to the side and Yuuri put his viola down.The tips of Yuuri’s ears were red, and he blinked nervously up at Viktor through his bangs.“I, uh… I do,” Yuuri whispered.He buried his face in Viktor’s arm again, but Viktor could still understand as he said in a muffled voice, “I do love you.”

“Yuura!” Viktor squealed, sweeping Yuuri into an enormous hug.Yuuri clung to him.“I love you too, Yuura,” Viktor said, and peppered Yuuri’s face with kisses when the younger man looked up at him.

Yuuri’s eyes were wide.“Y-you do?” he murmured.

Viktor nodded, kissing him on the lips.“Of course I do,” he said giddily.“I love you so much, Yuuri.”

Yuuri hid his face against Viktor’s chest, but his arms around his waist tightened.Viktor pressed his face against Yuuri’s hair and sighed happily when Yuuri melted against him.“I love you," he whispered again.Now that they had both said it, now that the dam had broken, he was going to tell Yuuri how much he loved him at every given moment, in every language he knew.“Je t’aime, ya lyublyu tebya, te amo, ich liebe dich, ai shiteru yo, P̄hm rạk khuṇ…”

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, and then giggled.“How many languages to you _speak?_ ”

“Only three,” Viktor assured him, and then beamed down at Yuuri when his boyfriend met his eyes.“I learned the rest for you, solnyshko.”

Yuuri giggled again, glasses sliding down his nose a little, eyes shining.“You’re so…”

“Fabulous?” Viktor supplied with a teasing smile.

Yuuri smiled back.“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect this to happen in an airport,” he said shyly.“I mean, you’re you…” 

Viktor laughed.“You expected the first time we said I love you to be more dramatic?” he asked.“Fireworks?Choirs of angels?A rainbow?”

Yuuri met his eyes, and brought a hand up to rest gently on Viktor’s cheek.“This is perfect too.”

Viktor exhaled gently, and leaned in to kiss Yuuri.Yuuri sighed contentedly and kissed gently back, one hand still cupping Viktor’s face as the other tightened around his waist.They stayed off to the side kissing for a few minutes, before Yuuri finally pulled away the tiniest bit.Viktor smiled at him, tangling his fingers in his hair and leaning their foreheads together.

“Hi,” Yuuri said, a little breathless.

Viktor kissed the tip of his nose, heart swelling.“Hi,” he whispered back.“I love you.”

Yuuri laughed softly, breath warm on Viktor’s cheek.“I love you too,” he replied, only a little tentatively.“But we should probably go find out gate.”

“Boring,” Viktor pouted.He kissed Yuuri again.“Can’t we just stay here?”

Yuuri hugged him, head resting on Viktor’s shoulder.“We’ll miss our plane, Vitya,” he said.“We’re going to be in Japan a few weeks, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to kiss.”

Viktor nuzzled Yuuri’s hair.“Fine,” he grumbled, and then gently cupped Yuuri’s face in his hands.“But don’t expect me to go fourteen hours on a plane without kissing you.”

Yuuri laughed.“Vitya, they might throw us off the plane if we start making out,” he said softly.

Viktor just laughed.“Come on, then if we must,” he said, lacing his fingers together with Yuuri’s.

***

As soon as Viktor saw their seats, his knees began to ache.

“I knew I should have upgraded our seats to first class behind your back,” he whined, hanging off Yuuri from behind.

Yuuri just chuckled.“I’m glad to know you’re so honest, Vitya,” he teased, carefully sliding his viola into the overhead compartment between the wall and a golf bag that should keep it from moving.

“Well, I didn’t,” Viktor said, pouting dramatically.“I just should have.”

“We’ll be fine,” Yuuri promised.“Do you want the aisle seat, or the middle seat?”

“Aisle, if that’s OK,” Viktor said.“Are you fine sitting next to a stranger?”

Yuuri gulped, but nodded as he slipped into their row and sat down in the middle seat.“I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure, Yuura?” Viktor said worriedly, still standing in the aisle.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder before he could answer.“Hey, are you going to move soon?” an older girl with long black hair asked.“I kinda need to get to my seat.”

“Sorry," Viktor said, shifting into his and Yuuri’s row so the girl could pass.She didn’t move.

“I’m at the window,” she said.

Viktor’s eyes widened.“Oh!Yes, of course.”He squeezed past her back into the aisle, and waited.

The girl glanced at her seat, and then caught sight of Yuuri.“Oh, um, hi,” Yuuri said awkwardly, half-standing.“Do you need me to move too?”He looked down and fiddled with his seatbelt, which for some reason he had already buckled.His glasses slipped down his nose a little, and his fluffy, soft hair fell over his forehead.Viktor thought he looked adorable.

Evidently the girl agreed, if her blush and stammered answer of, “N-no, you’re fine,” was anything to go by.She heaved a backpack into the overhead bin, and then squeezed past Yuuri’s legs to get to her seat.Viktor didn’t miss the hand she put on Yuuri’s shoulder to “steady herself,” the hand she left lingering a bit too long, even if Yuuri was completely oblivious.

Viktor sat down after she had passed, and immediately lifted the armrest between himself and Yuuri.“Is this alright?” he murmured.

Yuuri smiled at him.“Of course.”

Viktor chuckled, and slid Yuuri’s glasses back up his nose with one finger.“Better?”

Yuuri blushed a little, but he was smiling.“Thanks.”

Viktor smiled back, and then bent over to slide his satchel under the seat in front of him, wincing.His knees were already beginning to ache.He should have changed the seats, consequences be damned.

Viktor sat up straight again, to find the girl next to Yuuri introducing herself.“I’m Y-Yuuri,” Yuuri stammered shyly, timidly taking her hand to shake when it was offered.

“It’s _so_ nice to meet you, Yuuri,” the girl (who Viktor decided should remain nameless for the crime of flirting with his boyfriend/future husband) said with a bright smile.“Where are you from?”

Yuuri smiled nervously back, but Viktor noticed that his hands were trembling until he clenched his fingers in his lap.  Viktor frowned.Yuuri was probably already a little anxious about being on a plane for so long (although maybe Viktor was projecting), as well as going across the world for a competition that could quite literally decide his future, and this stranger prying into his life clearly wasn’t helping things.

“Do you want to switch?” he murmured in Yuuri’s ear, and then gave him a small kiss on his cheek.

“You need the leg room,” Yuuri replied, blushing a little and tapping Viktor’s knee with a finger.He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then told the girl, “I’m Japanese.”

Her smile brightened. “Oh, I’m of Japanese heritage too!” she exclaimed, and then put a hand on his arm.“Do you speak any Japanese?”

“Yes,” Yuuri mumbled, clearly slightly uncomfortable but too polite to tell her not to touch him.

Protective rage flared in Viktor’s chest, and he decided to intervene.“Yuuuuuura,” he said, leaning his head against Yuuri.“My dear Yuura, my sun and moon, the light of my life, my one true love, do you have headphones I could borrow?”He made sure to keep all his endearments in English, to guarantee that it was clear that his Yuuri was taken and therefore off limits, so the girl should back off and stop making him uncomfortable.Viktor ignored the fact that in the beginning, his flirting had been just as clumsy, even though Yuuri had assured him time and time again that he hadn’t been too uncomfortable.

Yuuri laughed softly, and turned his head to kiss Viktor on the forehead.“Sure, as long as you don’t mind sharing,” he replied.

Viktor gave him a kiss on the lips, and not exactly a chaste kiss, either.“I never mind sharing with you, solnyshko,” he purred when they came up for air.Yuuri was more than a little flushed, and his hair stuck up in front, but he bent down to dig his headphones out of his backpack.

Viktor flashed the girl sitting next to Yuuri a cold, impersonal smile.“I’m Viktor, Yuuri’s boyfriend,” he said pointedly.

She blushed, staring at him with wide eyes, and then managed to say, “I, um.Hi.I’m-”

“I heard,” Viktor said, and narrowed his eyes at her slightly, making sure his message was clear.She instinctively shifted a little bit away from Yuuri, and mumbled something about the long flight before pulling headphones, her phone, and a book out of the small bag still resting in her lap.

“Found them!” Yuuri exclaimed with a smile, sitting up again with the headphones dangling from his fingers.

Viktor kissed him again.“Lovely, my dear.”

Yuuri gave him an odd look, and glanced over his shoulder to see that the girl had her headphones jammed in her ears and her nose buried in her book, before whispering, “Viktor, why are you acting so weird?”

Viktor frowned.“Yuura, she was flirting with you,” he said.“You looked like you were uncomfortable.”

"She wasn’t flirting with me,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down and fiddling with the headphone cord in his hands.“Who would want to flirt with me?”

“Yuura,” Viktor sighed.He lifted Yuuri’s chin with his fingertips.Yuuri blinked at him with big brown eyes, wide behind his glasses.“A better question would be to ask who _wouldn’t_ want to flirt with you,” Viktor murmured.“You’re incredible, solnyshko.”He smiled coyly, and let his hand slide around to cup the back of Yuuri’s neck, and massaged small circles into the skin behind his ear with his thumb.“But you’re also _mine.”_ Yuuri’s lips parted slightly, and his eyes widened.Viktor leaned in and kissed him, and Yuuri kissed back eagerly, one hand gripping Viktor’s forearm and the other resting on his knee.

Viktor felt someone tap on his shoulder, and he pulled away from Yuuri in irritation to find an annoyed looking flight attendant standing in the aisle by their row, hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.“I’m going to have to ask you to please restrain yourself for the duration of the flight.”

Viktor sighed heavily, but leaned back.“Understood.”

The flight attendant nodded and walked towards the back of the plane.

Viktor smiled at a red-faced Yuuri, and kissed him on the cheek.“But my restraint ends _completely_ once we get to the hotel,” he murmured.

Somehow, Yuuri got even redder.“Vitya, was that… was that an innuendo?” he asked tentatively, looking up at Viktor through his bangs.

Viktor pressed his lips together.“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?”

Yuuri blinked, and then stammered, “N-no.I, um… I might not be opposed.To, um… that.”

Viktor's eyes widened.“Really?”Yuuri looked down, but nodded.“Yuura!” Viktor whispered, beaming at his boyfriend, and leaned in for a kiss.

Yuuri gently pushed him away.“Not now, Vitya, I don’t want to get kicked off for public indecency,” he said quietly, and then pulled out his phone and opened his music library after plugging in the headphones.“What do you want to listen to?”

Viktor accepted the headphone he was offered.“Whatever you want, solnyshko,” he said.

Yuuri smiled slightly and tapped on his screen.The opening [bars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEHNGgrEYyA%20) of Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony, one of Viktor’s all-time favorite musical masterpieces, swelled in Viktor’s ears.“Yuura,” Viktor whispered, eyes widening.He planted a sloppy kiss on Yuuri’s cheek, and then whispered, “I love you so much.”

Yuuri just smiled, lacing their fingers together and resting their conjoined hands on his thigh.Viktor sighed happily and rested his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and closed his eyes, tuning out the other noise in the plane and letting the music wash over him.

And then the plane jolted into motion as it began to taxi towards the runway.Viktor’s fingers around Yuuri’s unconsciously tightened as he flinched.

“Vitya?” Yuuri said uncertainly, glancing at Viktor.

Viktor took a deep, shuddering breath, and forced himself to relax.“Yes, Yuura?”

Yuuri absently swept his thumb over the back of Viktor’s hand.“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Viktor very carefully controlled himself as the plane turned onto the runway, but he couldn’t help the way his body tensed when the engines roared and the plane began to speed up.

“Vitya, please talk to me,” he thought Yuuri said, but all Viktor could focus on was the shuddering of the plane underneath him, the thunder of the engines in his ears, the stale air caught in the back of his throat.He distantly sensed Yuuri moving next to him, and then the other headphone was put in his empty ear.Suddenly all he could hear was Tchaikovsky, and all he could see was the darkness behind his eyelids, and all he could feel was Yuuri’s gentle hands, one still holding his hand and the other rubbing his knee.Yuuri's lips found Viktor’s cheek, and Viktor’s focus narrowed to the point of contact.

He barely noticed as the plane left the runway.

It took about fifteen minutes until Viktor was calm enough to open his eyes again, and he stared listlessly at the seat in front of him, flushed with embarrassment.

Yuuri gently took one of the headphones out of Viktor’s ear and said tentatively, “Vitya?”

Viktor smiled wanly, still gripping Yuuri’s fingers.“I may have exaggerated how comfortable I am with flying,” he admitted in a low voice.He had hoped that with Yuuri there he would be able to keep control of his fear, but evidently not even the idea of embarrassing himself in front of his boyfriend was enough to control the terror.

Yuuri kissed his cheek again, and said, “Please talk to me, Vitya.”

Viktor looked down at his and Yuuri’s interlaced fingers, and then said in a low voice, “Usually when I fly somewhere I take an over the counter sleeping pill, so I’m mostly out by the time we’re taking off.I didn’t do that this time because I… I didn't want you to know how much of a problem I have with flying.”

Yuuri sighed, leaning his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “Vitya, you don’t have to be embarrassed about this,” he said softly.“I love you.Besides, you’ve literally helped talk me through a panic attack, I’d say that’s worse.”

Viktor laughed weakly.“I guess.”He took a deep breath, and then said, “There’s not really a rational reason for why airplanes bother me so much.It’s just… if something went wrong, I wouldn’t be able to do anything to save myself, or save anyone else.I don’t like being that… vulnerable.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmured.He squeezed Viktor’s hand.“What can I do to help?”

“I’ll be better when we’re cruising,” he promised.“I read somewhere that most accidents happen during takeoff and landing, so that’s when I’m the most nervous.”

“Alright,” Yuuri said.“Did the music help?”

Viktor paused.“Yeah, it did,” he said in surprise.“It helped that I wasn’t able to hear the engines.”

Yuuri smiled at him.“Alright.”He put the other headphone in just as the third movement of the symphony started, and kept held of Viktor’s hand as he grabbed a book with his other.

“Thank you,” Viktor breathed.Yuuri just smiled at him again, and leaned against him.Viktor put an arm around his boyfriend, and settled in for a long flight.

***

More than fourteen hours later, Yuuri and Viktor shuffled off the plane, exhausted.Viktor had drunk five cups of coffee on the plane, and had passed a certain threshold of exhaustion so that he didn't feel sleepy, just sort of tingly and hollow and odd, running completely on adrenaline.Poor Yuuri, on the other hand, was dead on his feet.He had been asleep for a few hours until just before they had to get off the plane, having filled out the necessary forms before napping, and he let Viktor lead him off the plane with his eyes half closed and his chin drooping, as if he was going to fall asleep at any moment.

Viktor pulled his boyfriend off to the side once they were off the plane, and said softly, "Yuura, sweetheart, I need you to translate for me."

Yuuri made a sleepy sound, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes.

Viktor leaned forward and kissed Yuuri gently.That seemed to wake Yuuri up a little, and he blinked tiredly at Viktor after he pulled away."Can you stay awake for another hour or two, solnyshko?" Viktor asked, and Yuuri nodded.

"I can try," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes."You might need to kick me awake."

"I'd rather kiss you awake," Viktor told him.

Yuuri chuckled weakly."Have everything?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri checked that his backpack was over his shoulder and his viola case was in his hand, and then murmured, "We need to go through immigrations and customs."

"Lead the way, solnyshko," Viktor said with a smile.

Yuuri took his hand and lead them towards where the customs desks presumably were.They joined the end of a line.“Technically I’m a Japanese citizen,” Yuuri said through a yawn.“But I have a green card in the US, so I’m not sure which line I’m supposed to go through.I’ll stay with you, foreigner.”

Viktor smiled slightly, squeezing Yuuri’s hand.They went through immigration faster than Viktor expected, and claimed their suitcases before going through customs.

Once they were through, Yuuri led Viktor outside, and said, “Taxi?”

“Absolutely,” Viktor replied with a grin.“I don’t want to lug all these suitcases to wherever our hotel is.”

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Alright.”He stopped Viktor off to the side and told him seriously, “Wait here.”

Viktor watched with a smile as Yuuri walked over to one of the taxis idling by the entrance to the airport and spoke to the driver.After a moment, he beckoned Viktor over, and they loaded their bags in the trunk before getting into the backseat.Yuuri said something in slurred, exhausted-sounding Japanese, and the driver replied with a laugh before pulling away fro the curb.Viktor took Yuuri’s hand again and traced gentle patterns into his palm as the younger man leaned against him, dozing for the ride to their hotel.

When the taxi stopped, Viktor gently shook Yuuri awake and they unloaded and paid the driver before stumbling into the hotel.“Check us in, solnyshko?” Viktor murmured, squeezing Yuuri’s hand.

His boyfriend just nodded, blinking hard like he was struggling to stay awake.Yuuri checked them in at the desk, leaning against Viktor in exhaustion, and Viktor half-carried him to the elevator and then down the hall to their room.

“Just a few minutes, lyubov moya,” Viktor murmured as Yuuri staggered to the bed and collapsed face first.Viktor stowed their suitcases off to the side and put Yuuri’s viola in the closet, and then surveyed the room.They had apparently been given a room with a single bed, which Viktor hoped wouldn’t be a problem.He and Yuuri had shared a bed before, but for whatever reason Yuuri usually seemed reluctant to sleep over at Viktor’s apartment.

“Solnyshko, is it alright if we share?” he asked Yuuri, sitting on the bed next to him.

Yuuri made a muffled sound into the pillow, and then rolled on his back before mumbling with his eyes still closed, “’S fine.I don’ care if you don’.”

“I definitely don’t,” Viktor confirmed.He carefully took Yuuri’s glasses off his face and folded them up before placing them on the bedside table.“Pajamas, Yuura?”

“Mmphf,” Yuuri grumbled, rolling on his face again.

Viktor hid a smile.Sleepy Yuuri was absolutely adorable, just like every other Yuuri.Viktor stood with a small groan of complaint and padded across the room to their bags.It took him a few minutes to find their pajamas, and then he rejoined Yuuri on the bed, where he had already managed to fall asleep.Viktor couldn’t help the small, soft smile as he gently unlaced Yuuri’s shoes and took off his socks before giving his shoulder a small shake.

“Yuura,” he said softly.“Solnyshko, you need to change.”

Yuuri grumbled, but sat up and let Viktor help him into an overlarge t-shirt and his flannel pajama pants.Viktor smiled, and then went into the bathroom to change his own clothes and brush his teeth to get rid of the taste of stale coffee before returning to the bedroom.

Yuuri had already wormed his way under the covers and was curled up clutching a pillow on one side of the bed, breathing steady and expression peaceful and calm.Viktor smiled fondly, kissing Yuuri on the forehead as he passed to plug in his phone and turn out the lights, before getting into bed himself.

Yuuri immediately shifted over in the bed until he was lying half on top of Viktor, arm flung over his chest and cheek resting right over his heart.Viktor cooed, giving Yuuri one last kiss on the top of his head before snuggling under the covers, putting an arm around his boyfriend.They were asleep in seconds.

***

Viktor awoke slowly the next morning to the faint sounds of a city and a warm weight on his chest.Viktor lay there for a few minutes, wrapped in warmth, before shifting slightly and opening his eyes.Warm midmorning sunlight squeezed through a crack in the curtains, but luckily someone had thought enough to close them.The weight on his chest made a noise of complaint, and the arms around him tightened slightly.Viktor’s heart swelled with wonderment and love as he realized that he and Yuuri were still curled up together, legs tangled and arms around each other, Yuuri’s head resting on Viktor’s chest.

Viktor looked down at his gorgeous boyfriend’s peaceful, angelic face, and then kissed him on the tip of the nose.“Good morning, angelochek moya,” he murmured.

“That’s a new one," Yuuri mumbled, burying his face in Viktor’s chest as his fingers bunched in Viktor’s shirt.

“My angel,” Viktor translated, and Yuuri groaned.

“It’s too early in the morning for you to be this sweet,” he complained, accent a little thicker than normal.

Viktor thought it was adorable.“Aw, Yuura,” Viktor cooed, kissing Yuuri on the cheek.“You think I’m sweet?”

“Too.Early,” Yuuri mumbled, but Viktor could hear the smile in his Yuuri’s voice as he burrowed further under the covers and clung to Viktor’s torso.

Viktor grabbed his phone off the bedside table and squinted at the screen.“Yuura, it’s ten fifteen,” he said.

Yuuri mumbled what Viktor was fairly sure was a curse in Japanese, and then pulled the covers over his head.

“Yuura, we have been sleeping for nearly ten hours,” Viktor said.“It’s a reasonable time to get up in this time zone.You don’t want to let the jet lag get the better of you, do you?”

“No,” Yuuri grumbled, and slowly slid the covers off his head, blinking in the sudden light.Viktor smiled.Yuuri looked unspeakably cute,with his hair ruffled and pressed flat on one side, his face still relaxed with sleepiness, gaze hazy and soft without his glasses.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said quietly, supporting himself on one elbow so he could look down at Viktor’s face, squinting slightly to make him out.“Where are we?”

Viktor laughed.“We’re in the hotel, Yuura,” he said.“Don’t you remember?”

Yuuri blinked sleepily, and then laughed.“It’s all a little blurry after you woke me up on the plane, to be honest,” he said.“I’m completely useless when I’m jet lagged.”

Viktor smiled, reaching up to caress Yuuri’s face.“You seem fine to me,” he said.

Yuuri glanced around, a small frown on his bed.“I thought we asked for a room with two beds,” he said thoughtfully.

Viktor shrugged.“This is the room they gave us the keys for, but you were the one that spoke to the desk,” he replied.“Does it bother you to share with me?We can probably get it changed if you really want.”

Yuuri chewed on his lip, and then said hesitantly, “I don’t mind sharing.As long as you don’t.”

Viktor let his smile grow a little sly, and slid his hand around to cup the back of Yuuri's neck.“I certainly don’t,” he purred, and leaned up to kiss Yuuri.

The Japanese man was laughing by the time they came up for air.“Vitya, you’re adorable,” he said fondly.“I’m going to shower, alright?I feel gross.”

Viktor sat up at Yuuri crawled out of bed.“Can I come with you?” he asked hopefully.Yuuri glanced over his shoulder, face flushed, but he left the bathroom door open when he went to shower.Viktor grinned.

When the two were finished showering and had gotten dressed, Yuuri curled up on top of the covers again to try to text Phichit while Viktor looked for somewhere they could eat.“They might serve breakfast here,” Yuuri pointed out as he tapped on his phone. 

“Maybe, but this is an international hotel,” Viktor said.“I want an authentic Japanese breakfast!”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.“I see.”

Viktor squinted at his phone, and then said, “There’s a cafe near the concert venue.We could eat, and then check out the space you’ll be performing in day after tomorrow.”

Yuuri nodded.“That sounds alright,” he said, and then chuckled.“Look at this picture Phichit just sent me.”

Viktor glanced down at Yuuri’s phone, and grinned.Phichit was standing in Central Park with Makkachin, several small children gathered around petting the patient poodle’s fur.Phichit had an expression of exasperated amusement on his face.Makkachin looked happy.

Yuuri smiled, and texted Phichit several smily faces before shutting off his phone.“Breakfast?” he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Viktor leaned down and kissed him.“Absolutely.”

Yuuri ran his fingers through his hair.“I think we’re close enough to walk,” he said.“Is that alright?”

“Sounds good, Yuura,” Viktor agreed, taking Yuuri’s hand and pulling him to his feet.

Yuuri laughed, hugging Viktor.“Come on, then.”

Viktor let Yuuri lead him out of their hotel and down the street, looking around the city with interest.He had never been to Tokyo before, not even for a competition.He was very glad to be with someone who spoke the language.

“I think the competition venue is closer,” Yuuri said, glancing around as his fingers tightened around Viktor’s.“Should we go there first?”

“Whatever you want, solnyshko,” Viktor said cheerfully.

Yuuri smiled, swinging their hands a little in between them as they moved with the crowd down the sidewalk.Finally, Yuuri pulled Viktor off the street and into a building.“Here we are,” he said in the sudden quiet.

Viktor looked around.“Interesting,” he said quietly, observing the foyer, papered with posters printed in Japanese.“What do all these say?”

“That one is for a concert that happened last spring,” Yuuri said thoughtfully, pointing to a poster depicting an orchestra being conducted by a dark silhouette with a spotlight behind them.His eyes scanned the posters, and then his expression brightened.“Hey!That one is for the qualifier!”

Viktor smiled, squinting at the poster.He couldn’t read the print, but it looked like there was a list of what might be names underneath a picture of a crossed violin bow and flute.“Is your name there?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri blushed a little as he pointed to the third name from the bottom.

“That’s me,” he said.“Katsuki Yuuri.”

Someone made a sound from behind them, and Viktor jumped, whirling around.An older woman with her greying hair caught up in a bun stood behind them, staring wide-eyed.She said something in Japanese, and Viktor thought he caught Yuuri’s name.Yuuri nodded, still a little flushed, and bowed to her.

The woman bowed back, smiled, and then said in accented English for Viktor’s sake, “If you are here to look at the stage, you may come and go as you please, Katsuki-san.One of the other musicians is already here.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, bowing again.

“It is through there,” she said, gesturing to a pair of double doors at the end of the foyer.

Yuuri smiled at her, and then tugged at Viktor’s hand and led him through the doors and into the dim auditorium.There were only a few lights on above the stage, and Viktor and Yuuri’s footsteps echoed slightly as they walked down the center aisle towards the stage crowded with shadowy chairs and music stands, and the hulking silhouette of a grand piano off to the side.

“That’s probably for Seung-gil,” Yuuri whispered, nodding in the direction of the piano.

“I wonder who’s here,” Viktor murmured.For whatever reason, he didn’t want to raise his voice and break the heavy silence.Yuuri just shrugged.They reached the lip of the stage and Viktor boosted himself up before offering a hand to Yuuri.Yuuri ignored the offer and pulled himself up easily, scrambling to his feet.

“Wow,” he murmured, turning and looking over the rows and rows of seats before they disappeared into the dim shadows at the back of the enormous room.

Viktor slid an arm around his waist, and Yuuri leaned against him.“Do you think you’re ready?” Viktor whispered, squeezing Yuuri a little.

“I hope so,” Yuuri whispered back.He sighed softly, and then glanced at the piano.“Do you play the piano at all?”

Viktor shook his head.“Never learned,” he admitted.“The violin consumed me.Do you know how to play the piano?”

Yuuri bit his lip.“A little,” he said.“Minako-sensei taught me.”

“Ooh, show me!” Viktor ordered, giving Yuuri a small push in between his shoulder blades.

Yuuri laughed, but crossed the stage and sat down on the piano bench.“I’m not very good,” he warned, but then spread his fingers over the keys and closed his eyes before playing the first [bars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tr0otuiQuU%20) of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.Viktor slowly crossed the stage and sat down next to his boyfriend on the bench as Yuuri rocked back and forth almost imperceptibly, coaxing notes out of the piano with his eyes closed.Viktor held his breath, enraptured, as Yuuri played through the last few bars and let the notes fade into the silence, fingers still resting on the keys.

A sharp clap, followed by several more, rang out in the breathless moment, and Yuuri’s eyes popped open as Viktor jumped.They both looked over to the center of the stage, where a young Korean man was walking slowly towards them.

“I had no idea you could play the piano, Katsuki,” he said when he was within earshot.

Yuuri jumped up and bowed.“Hello, Seung-gil,” he said cheerfully.“It’s good to see you again!”

Seung-gil offered Yuuri a small nod, and then his eyes flicked to Viktor.“Your sidekick looks different,” he noted expressionlessly.“Where’s the Thai kid?”

Viktor stood as well, and rested a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.“I’m Viktor, Yuuri’s boyfriend,” he said.

Seung-gil raised an eyebrow slightly.“You call yourself Katsuki’s boyfriend before a world-class, award winning prodigy violinist?” he said, sounding vaguely amused.

Viktor’s gave Seung-gil his media smile.“Well, I’m that too,” he admitted, and then glanced down at Yuuri, who was looking back up at him with bright, honest eyes.His smile softened to become more genuine.“But being with Yuuri is the achievement I’m most proud of.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri whined, hiding his face in Viktor’s shoulder.

Seung-gil watched impassively, but he seemed entertained.“Whatever you say,” he said, and then stuck his hands in his pockets before turning his attention to Yuuri.“Where’d you learn to play piano, Katsuki?”

“My old teacher taught me,” Yuuri explained, blushing a little.“I’m pretty rusty.”

Seung-gil just shrugged.“You’re not awful,” he said.

Yuuri quickly stepped away from the piano.“But of course, you’re probably here to practice,” he said.“Please, go ahead.”

Seung-gil shook his head.“I’m staying with a friend who has a piano,” he said.“I just wanted to get a look at the venue.”He eyed the two of them.“I was just leaving.”

“It was nice seeing you, Seung-gil, I’m looking forward to competing against you,” Yuuri said brightly, and Viktor was sure he was the only one to hear the anxious tremble in his boyfriend’s voice. 

Seung-gil squinted.“Sure,” he drawled.“It will be an interesting competition.”He studied Yuuri for another moment, and then seemed to come to a decision.“I’ll see you onstage, Katsuki,” he said.“Tell Chulanont I look forward to crushing him in the finals.”

With that, the man turned and walked away with echoing steps before he faded into the gloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...No, I'm not pushing my musical preferences onto the characters, what are you talking about?
> 
> And we all know that Viktor is totally the sort of person who would learn how to say "I love you" in, like, seventeen different languages just for Yuuri. It's Viktor.
> 
> I honestly had no idea that Jealous!Viktor was going to show up in this chapter, but Jealous!Viktor is my guilty pleasure so... Reasons.
> 
> Sorry for that cliche af ending, I had no idea what to do and I was already at 7k words so I give you edgy Seung-gil.
> 
> I'll be back with the next chapter of the Tokyo Qualifier Arc next week, Monday the 18th, hopefully a little earlier in the day :) Hope you enjoyed this filler chapter of pure, concentrated fluff, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a remarkable day, dear reader!


	14. Proud of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri competes in the Tokyo Qualifier against some of the most talented musicians of his generation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said I wanted to publish chapters earlier in the day. Ha. Haha. I was so young and naive last week. So here's the next chapter, quite literally at the eleventh hour. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Yuuri has an anxiety attack at the beginning of the chapter. It ends at "They were quiet for a few moments as Yuuri got his breathing back under control, and then Viktor sat down on the bed, pulling Yuuri down next to him." He also has a minor attack further in (from "Viktor grabbed Yuuri's hand..." to "Yuuri nodded numbly...") but it's less graphically described.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“What am I doing here, what am I doing here,” Yuuri mumbled, pacing in circles.

“Yuura,” Viktor said from where he stood in the bathroom door, towel around his shoulders and hair still wet from his shower.He must have heard Yuuri talking to himself and come to investigate.

Yuuri ignored him.“I’m going to screw up,” Yuuri whispered, tangling his fingers in his hair as he bent over slightly.“Oh, god, I’m going to screw up.I’m going to humiliate myself.I don’t deserve to be here.”

Warm arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, and he was pulled against a strong chest.“Yuura,” someone whispered in his ear, voice low and soothing.“Please listen to me.”

Yuuri choked, trying desperately to get air into his lungs.

“Yuura,” the voice said again, more insistently this time, and a hand started to rub soothing circles on Yuuri’s arm.“Breathe with me,” Viktor murmured, cheek pressed against Yuuri’s.“Can you feel me breathing?”

“Mm,” Yuuri mumbled, leaning back against Viktor.He could feel the rise and fall of Viktor’s chest against his back, and the pitter-patter of his heartbeat on his spine, and the hand rubbing slow circles on his upper arm.

“Good,” Viktor said calmly.

They were quiet for a few moments as Yuuri got his breathing back under control, and then Viktor sat down on the bed, pulling Yuuri down next to him.“Talk to me, please,” he said quietly. Yuuri lowered his chin, tears prickling at his eyes.“Can you tell me what triggered this?”

Yuuri swallowed hard, clenching his fists in his lap.Viktor had been taking a leisurely shower to wake himself up, so Yuuri had thought to look up some videos of his fellow competitors in the qualifier later that day.Every video he watched sent him spiraling further into a trap of self-doubt and fear, but he hadn’t been able to look away.Ironically, it had been a video of Seung-gil, the only competitor Yuuri had actually ever seen perform live before, that had sent him over the edge into panic.

Yuuri didn’t answer Viktor’s question.

Viktor sighed softly and took Yuuri’s hands, uncurling his fingers and gently stroking the imprints in his palms from his own fingernails.“It’s alright if you can’t talk about it,” Viktor murmured, pulling Yuuri into a hug.Yuuri buried his face in his boyfriend’s neck, shivering.“You deserve to be in this competition just as much as anyone else here,” Viktor said.“You’re very talented, Yuura.Who won the competition in Boston by a five point margin?”

“It was a fluke,” Yuuri muttered.

Viktor made a sound of confusion.

“It was a fluke,” Yuuri repeated insistently.He broke the hug and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.“I always crumble under the pressure,” he told Viktor in a hollow voice.“ _Always._ I don’t know how I’ve gotten this far without messing up.”

“Yuura,” Viktor murmured.He looked like he wanted to reach out to Yuuri, but thought better of it. _Good,_ Yuuri thought viciously, hiding his face behind his knees. _I don’t want his comfort.I don’t deserve it._

“Yuuri,” Viktor said firmly, and Yuuri looked up in surprise.Viktor hardly ever called him by his real name anymore.Viktor got off the bed and knelt in front of Yuuri so they were face to face.“Listen to me,” he said fiercely.“When you dismiss all the hard work and commitment it has taken you to get here, you not only degrade yourself, but you degrade me as well.Does my work to help you count for nothing?Do I lie every time I tell you how incredible you are?And what about Phichit?Do his words of encouragement count for nothing?Is his opinion invalid?Even Yuri Plisetsky respects you, and that is a very difficult badge to earn.Is he delusional as well?Yuuri, everyone but you seems to see how amazing you are.How can I make you see what I see?”

Yuuri choked on a sob.“I don't know,” he said thickly.“I don’’t know what to do.I…”He curled his arms and Viktor was instantly on the bed next to him, arms around his shoulders.“I was watching videos of the other competitors,” Yuuri admitted, gesturing limply to his phone, lying abandoned on the edge of the bed.“They’re so much better than me, Viktor!I don’t stand a chance!I-”

“Of course you don’t stand a chance, if you think like that,” Viktor interrupted sternly.He cupped Yuuri’s face with one hand, and met his eyes.“Listen to me very carefully, Yuuri.You are worthy.You are more that worthy of being here, playing with these talented musicians, because you are a talented musician too.You don’t need to compare yourself to videos of them playing, because you will come out on top every.Single.Time.And right now I’m saying that not as your boyfriend, or your biggest fan, but as your teacher.Trust me.I’ve seen a lot of musicians in my time, and you stand out for a lot of reasons.You are going to play the music you can say you like the best at the competition and, win or lose, that will be more than enough.Da?” 

Yuuri swallowed hard, leaning into Viktor’s touch.“Da.”

Viktor grinned at him.“Why Yuura, I didn’t know you spoke Russian,” he teased.

Yuuri cracked a small smile.“Vozmozhno.”

Viktor laughed softly, and kissed him on the cheek.“Are you feeling a little better, solnyshko?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri admitted, picking at a hangnail.“…Thank you, Vitya.”

Viktor gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.“Anything, lyubov moya.What now?”

“I should practice,” Yuuri muttered, fingers twitching.

Viktor took his left hand and carefully examined his fingertips before saying, “No more than an hour, solnyshko.I know you have calluses, but I don’t want to put them to the test the day of your competition.”

“Alright,” Yuuri agreed, considering his fingertips as well.He and Viktor had practiced the day before for several hours in two hour chunks, going sight seeing in the meantime, so while his fingers didn’t hurt Viktor was right not to push him too hard.

“How’s your back?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri rubbed his neck.

“Fine,” he replied.“Not too sore.”His upper back started to hurt sometimes when he played for too long, but that shouldn’t be a problem at the competition.

“Do you want to practice now or later?” Viktor asked.“The competition doesn’t start until three this afternoon.”

Yuuri raked his fingers through his hair, thinking.“Maybe a little now, and then a nap?” he suggested.He never slept well the night before a competition.The nerves got to him, leaving him awake and staring into the darkness late at night, head swimming with nightmarish scenarios.

Viktor brightened.“Perfect, an opportunity to cuddle.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh at that.“If you say so.”He stood and got his viola from the room’s closet, setting the case down on the end of the bed.“You should finish your morning routine,” he said, eyeing Viktor’s damp hair.“I’ll play scales.”

Viktor studied him, and then his expression softened.“Alright, Yuura, thank you,” he said, and then cast a worried glance at Yuuri’s phone.“Please don’t watch anymore videos, Yuura.You don’t need to compare yourself to them.You’re amazing on your own.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor gave him a kiss on the corner of the mouth before returning to the bathroom, although he left the door open a crack.A moment later, the quiet hum of Viktor’s hairdryer filled the hotel room as Yuuri popped the latches on his case.He took his viola out and ran his fingers over the varnished wood of the body, automatically checking to make sure there weren’t any scratches or cracks.He used a soft cloth to clean off some rosin from under the fingerboard that he had missed the day before, and then set his instrument back in his caseand took out his bow, tightening the hairs and checking to make sure he had enough rosin.

Yuuri sat on the bed and lifted his instrument to his chin before setting the bow on the strings and positioning his left hand.He paused a moment, listening to the sound of Viktor’s hairdryer, accompanied by the soft humming that Viktor probably wasn’t even aware of, and then played a slow, languorous G major scale.He went through most of the other major and minor scales in the time it took Viktor to finish getting ready for the day, and the Russian man emerged from the bathroom just as Yuuri finished an F# minor arpeggio.

“Are you warmed up?” Viktor asked, neatly folding his sleep shirt and setting it on top of his suitcase.

“I think so,” Yuuri replied, He traced the A string with his pinky, and said hesitantly, “Vitya, do… do you really think I’ll be OK?”

Viktor came and sat on the bed beside him, restinghand on Yuuri’s knee and pressing their shoulders together.“Nope.”

Yuuri’s eyes shot up.“What?”

“I think you’ll be more than OK,” Viktor said with a smug smile.“You are, after all, being helped by me.”

Viktor’s joking arrogance snapped Yuuri out of the last vestiges of his low mood.He tapped Viktor’s nose with his finger, and teased, “I think your hairdryer might have fried a few brain cells.”

“Meanie,” Viktor pouted.“And here I was, complimenting you.”He flopped back on the bed and put a hand dramatically to his forehead.“Oh!The world is cruel!My love has betrayed me!”

Yuuri laughed.

Viktor propped himself up on one elbow and looked Yuuri in the eye as he sobered.“I know you’re going to do fantastically, Yuura.Call it a musician’s instinct.You’re going to be just fine.Can I hear your piece?”

Yuuri nodded, and stood before lifting his viola to his shoulder again.The day of the qualifier, several months after first getting the piece, History Maker was ingrained in his fingertips.He could play every note in his sleep, and in fact often dreamed about playing.The melody would probably never leave him.

Yuuri took a deep breath, and started to play, eyes closed, lip caught between his teeth, swaying back and forth slightly with the ebb and flow of the music.He fingered the notes with near perfect precision, but there was something still… missing.Something he hadn’t quite grasped about the emotion of the piece.There was a story to tell through the music and each note was a puzzle piece.Yuuri knew he had the pieces put together correctly, but for some reason the story that they made still wasn’t clear to him.He strung the notes together in an order made sense, but they didn’t mean anything.

Halfway through Yuuri cut off abruptly, growling in frustration.“Yuura,” Viktor said calmly, pulling his legs up onto the bed and crossing them, resting his hands on his knees.“Getting frustrated will do nothing for you.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong!” Yuuri exclaimed in irritation.“It hasn’t clicked.Viktor, I’ve been playing this piece for seven months, and it still _hasn’t clicked!”_

“It sounds good,” Viktor said patiently, clear blue eyes fixed on Yuuri’s face.

“Yes, it does,” Yuuri admitted.He knew he could be a decent player if he wasn’t crumbling under the pressure.“That’s the problem.This piece could be great, Viktor, you and I both know that.But it isn’t.I can’t play this music the way it deserves.”

Viktor cupped his hands and rested his chin in his palms. “Measure seventy three, please.” Yuuri frowned, but started to play.After a few measures, Viktor held up a hand.“On the trill, play a little faster,” he said.“It needs to sound… desperate.”Yuuri did as he said, and Viktor nodded in satisfaction. “Alright, ninety nine,” he ordered.Yuuri played, and again Viktor stopped him after only a few measures.“Exaggerate the tenutos,” he said crisply.“Push the boundaries of the tempo.”Yuuri played the measures again, and then set his viola down on the bed with a sigh.

“Vitya, we’ve picked this piece apart a million times,” he said mournfully.“Doing it the day of the competition isn’t going to help anymore.I just have to hope something clicks.”

Viktor frowned.“Yuuri, what do you think this piece is about?” he asked.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes.“We’ve never talked about this before?” he said, and then leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.“I don’t know.That’s the problem!I can’t figure it out.I know how the piece makes me feel, and how it’s supposed to make others feel, but I don’t know _why._ I don’t know what it's trying to say.And again, the day of the qualifier is a little late.”

Viktor shook his head.“It’s never too late to improve,” he said.“Yuura, you just need to… let the music speak to you.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Yuuri snapped, and then sighed.“Sorry.”He came and sat next to Viktor, who immediately put an arm around his waist and pulled him close.“I’ve listened to this piece so many times it’s literally ingrained in my skull,” Yuuri said.“I hear it in my dreams all the time.The music plays in my head nearly every waking moment.If that’s not speaking, I don’t know what is, but I don’t know what it’s saying.I don’t know what story I’m supposed to tell with the notes.Do they mean anything at all?”

“Of course they do,” Viktor said soothingly, rubbing Yuuri’s back.He pressed his lips to Yuuri’s cheek.“I know you can figure it out, solnyshko.”

Yuuri sighed.“I’m scared,” he admitted.“Vitya, I’m scared.What if I let you down?”

He didn’t look at Viktor, but he was sure the Russian man was frowning.“Yuura, the only thing you could do that would disappoint me would be to give up now,” Viktor murmured.Yuuri turned his head and pressed his lips to Viktor’s.Viktor hummed happily and kissed him back, one and coming up to tangle in Yuuri’s hair.

When they came up for air, Viktor pressed his forehead to Yuuri’s and murmured, “What was that for?”

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered.

“I love you too," Viktor replied, kissing Yuuri again.“Have you had anything to eat this morning?”

Yuuri considered that carefully.“No,” he said.“I was going to grab breakfast after practice.”

“It’s past eight,” Viktor pointed out.“We should eat something.”He stood, and offered Yuuri a hand.“Coming, Yuura?”

Yuuri smiled and took his hand.

***

Yuuri woke up to find Viktor beaming at him, arms wrapped around his waist.

“Sleep well, solnyshko?” he asked, kissing Yuuri on the tip of the nose.

"Yeah I slept all right," Yuuri confirmed.

Viktor smiled and nuzzled his cheek."I'm glad," he said.

Yuuri cupped Viktor's cheek and kissed him softly, and then said, "Please don't tell me you spent the entire time I was napping just lying here and staring at me."

Viktor waited."Well, I did get up to go to the bathroom once," he said finally.

Yuuri his his face in Viktor's shoulder."Vitya, that's a little creepy," he murmured.

Viktor pouted at him."I can't help myself!" he exclaimed."You're just so adorable!You look so peaceful when you sleep, I love it so much.I love _you_ so much."

"Vitya!" Yuuri whined, face red.

Viktor grinned."What now, solnyshko?" he asked.

“Mmphf,” Yuuri mumbled.“What time is it?”

“One,” Viktor answered.“Lunch, and then we can get you ready for the competition?”

Yuuri nodded.“Sounds like a plan,” he said.

Yuuri and Viktor went out for a late lunch at a small restaurant close to the hotel, but it took longer than they expected and by the time they returned to their room Yuuri was antsy.

“Yuura, we’re fine,” Viktor said soothingly, stroking the back of Yuuri’s hand with his thumb as he unlocked the room.“We’re just fine.”

Yuuri made a conscious effort to slow his breathing.“But we should really be there in half an hour if the competition starts at three, and I still have to get ready and I want to shower, and what if we’re late enough that they won’tlet me in-”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said seriously, taking him by the shoulders and looking him in the eye.Yuuri stared at him wide-eyed, a little surprised by the intensity of Viktor’s gaze.“What do you want me to do?” Viktor asked seriously.

Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek.“Could you find my clothes for me while I shower?” he asked.

Viktor nodded.“Of course.”He gave Yuuri a kiss, and then a small push in the direction of the bathroom.“Go ahead, Yuura.”

Yuuri nodded and stumbled into the bathroom, hands trembling.He was still anxious when he got out of the shower, but his breathing slowed when Viktor came in with a stack of folded clothes.“Thanks, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured.

Viktor smiled.“Of course, solnyshko,” he replied.“Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Yuuri said, voice muffled as he toweled dry his hair.He grabbed the clothes and started to get dressed.

“What has you so worried?” Viktor asked, leaning against the counter as Yuuri buttoned up his shirt.

“Pre-competition nerves,” Yuuri admitted.“Ask Phichit.I always get like this before a big competition.”

Viktor frowned.“What do you mean?”

Yuuri shrugged, blushing a little, but he figured it was better to be honest.“So far, I’m holding up well,” he said with a weak smile.He tied his tie, Viktor absently fixed it for him without a word, and then Yuuri stood in front of the mirror to put in his contacts.Viktor leaned against the doorframe behind him, still frowning thoughtfully.

“Phichit told me before we left to make sure you eat and sleep enough,” he said suddenly.“Are you tired?Hungry?”

Yuuri stared at him in the mirror, accidentally missing his iris with the contact and poking himself in the eye.“Ouch, shit,” he muttered, pinching the contact out and rubbing his eye as it teared up.“Um,” he said, remembering Viktor’s question.“No, I’m fine.”

Viktor just studied him with the same calm, slightly doubtful expression.

“It won’t affect my performance, don’t worry about it,” Yuuri amended.He hadn’t slept well, true, but the nap had helped.He didn’t feel light-headed and on the edge of a breakdown, at least.

Viktor came up behind him, gently resting his hands on Yuuri’s waist.“As your teacher, that would be sufficient,” he said in a low voice, the tip of his nose brushing the shell of Yuuri’s ear.“But as your boyfriend, that worries me.”

“I feel fine, Viktor, you don’t have to worry about me,” Yuuri said, a little sharper than he intended.A hurt expression flickered across Viktor’s face for a split second before he smiled brightly, the smile he gave to the press when they asked him about things like his childhood.He stepped back a little, putting his hands in his pockets.Guilt fluttered in Yuuri’s stomach, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he had said that had been upsetting, so he stayed quiet and put in his contact without a hitch.

“How much time do we have?” he asked.

Viktor glanced at his watch.“It’s two twenty,” he said.“You’re doing just fine.”

“Hm,” Yuuri murmured in agreement, leaning forward and squinting at himself in the mirror before running his fingers through his hair.Even after showering, it was sticking up in back.

“Are you slicking back your hair today?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri sighed.“Yeah, I should,” he said.“I can’t play as well when it falls in my eyes.It’s distracting.”

Viktor smiled slightly, and ineffectively flicked his bangs out of his eyes.“Yes, that can be distracting, can’t it?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”Yuuri started.

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“I know you didn’t,” he said quietly.“But sometimes we say things without thinking them through.”

Yuuri paused.“We aren’t talking about your bangs anymore, are we?”

Viktor just shrugged, and handed Yuuri the tube of hair gel.“There you, go, solnyshko.”

Yuuri slicked back his hair, fiddled for a moment, and then turned to face Viktor.The Russian man had sat down on the closed toilet seat, and had neatly crossed his legs and was waiting patiently for Yuuri to be done with his fingers laced together and resting on his knee.“Are you mad at me?”

“No, lyubov moya, I’m never mad at you,” Viktor said immediately, uncrossing his legs and standing.He slid his arms around Yuuri’s waist and Yuuri leaned against him, looping his arms around Viktor’s neck.“I’m just worried about you,” Viktor murmured into Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri hugged him.“I know, Vitya, but I promise I’m alright for now,” he whispered.“I haven’t even cried.”

“Don’t cry,” Viktor pleaded.“I never know what do to when someone cries.”

Yuuri laughed.“Trust me, I know,” he said.“Are you ready to go?”

“Whenever you are,” Viktor confirmed.

“Let me get my instrument,” Yuuri said.

“M’kay,” Viktor muttered, still clinging to Yuuri, face pressed against his neck.

Yuuri chuckled, patting Viktor’s shoulder.“You can let go now.”

“You didn’t say please,” Viktor said mischievously.

“Pozhaluista,” Yuuri whispered in his ear.

Viktor let go of him in surprise, eyes wide."Ya lyublyu tebya,” he whispered fervently.Yuuri kissed him quickly before stepping out of the bathroom to get his viola.Viktor grabbed his bag and his phone, and waited for Yuuri to leave the room before locking the door behind them.

“Do I look alright?” Yuuri asked worriedly, fiddling with his tie.

“You look gorgeous as always, solnyshko, and you know I’m not biased,” Viktor said with a teasing wink.He looked Yuuri over, and added, “Although, I’m buying you a new tie before the finals.”Yuuri just rolled his eyes.Viktor smiled gently and kissed him on the forehead before taking his hand.“Come on.”

The two musicians walked in silence to the concert venue hand in hand, and were shown to the warmup room.“See, Yuura, there was nothing to worry about,” Viktor murmured, kissing Yuuri on the cheek.“We’re the first ones here.”

Yuuri gave his boyfriend a shaky smile and knelt on the floor to unpack his viola.Viktor rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.“Are you sure you’re alright, solnyshko?” he asked.“You seem more anxious than your last competition.”

“This is a much bigger deal,” Yuuri said nervously.“The stakes are higher.”

Viktor crouched down next to him, and looked him in the eye.“Maybe that’s true,” he said.“But you’re also better than you were four months ago.You’ve grown as a musician, and you’ve gained confidence as a person.I’m already so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.I’m so happy to be here with you.”

Yuuri closed his eyes and leaned against Viktor.“Thank you,” he murmured.

Viktor chuckled.“Don’t thank me until you win,” he returned.Yuuri gave him a small kiss, and then turned his attention back to his viola.

Yuuri took his instrument out of the case ad quietly tuned it before cradling the body in his arms and silently fingering notes.The room was mostly quiet, except for the small sounds of his instrument and Viktor’s quiet breathing as he stood against the wall looking down at his phone, and for whatever reason it made Yuuri uncomfortable to think about breaking that silence.He slid a finger up the A string to hit a high note before absently speeding through a difficult run.

It was easier to lose himself in the music now that he wasn’t exhausted and on the edge of a panic attack.He distantly registered as someone else, probably one of the other competitors, came into the room, but didn’t pay them any mind.Thankfully, the other musicians didn’t address him, and he was able to ignore them until he heard shouting.Yuuri stopped plucking notes and looked up in surprise.A young man with short brown hair was standing in front of a woman holding a cello, arms spread like he was protecting her, yelling at a man with spiky blond hair and a goatee.

Viktor caught Yuuri’s eye and raised an eyebrow.Yuuri shrugged.“You’ll stay away from my sister!” the brown-haired man said angrily.

The woman behind him frowned, and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.“Enough, Mickey,” she scolded.

“Oh, I know who they are,” Viktor murmured, thoughtfully eying the three as the blond man said something in a low voice that failed to placate the brown-haired man.

“Really?” Yuuri whispered.“You actually know who someone is?”

“Oh, hush,” Viktor said, not unkindly.“The brown-haired man is Michele Crispino.He was in the finals last year.”

“Wow!” Yuuri exclaimed in fake shock.“I’m so surprised at how familiar you are with other musicians!”

Viktor rolled his eyes, flicking Yuuri on the arm.“There’s only six finalists, it would be hard for me not to know who the others were,” he pointed out.“I know you think I don’t pay attention, and i mostly don’t, but I’m not quite _that_ oblivious.”

“Then who’re the others?” Yuuri challenged, stroking a minor chord on his instrument.

“The woman is Sara Crispino, I assume,” Viktor murmured thoughtfully.He tapped his finger against his lips.“The other?No idea.”

“Emil Nikola,” Yuuri supplied, and Viktor lit up.

“I remember you mentioning him,” he said.“The tuba player, right?”

Yuuri glanced at him in surprise.“You remember that conversation?”

Viktor gave him an adoring, affectionate look.“I always remember what you say, lyubov moya.”

Yuuri laughed.“Except when I ask you to wash the dishes for me,” he said.

Viktor pouted at him.“My love is so cruel!” he exclaimed, and pressed his hands to his heart.“How will I go on?”

Yuuri laughed.“I love you, Vitya, but you’re such a drama queen.”

“I am the queenliest drama queen,” Viktor agreed with a solemn nod.He kissed Yuuri on the cheek.“Are you my king?”

Yuuri went red, and shoved Viktor in the shoulder.“Vitya!”

Viktor just laughed, leaning back.“Yuura, you’re so easy to tease,” he said, but before he could finish his cell phone rang.Viktor’s smile dimmed slightly and he pulled his phone out of his pocket.“It’s Yuri,” he said, raising an eyebrow.“Sorry, solnyshko, I should take this.”

“Of course,” Yuuri agreed quickly.“I’ll be here.”

Viktor kissed him on the top of the head.“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, and then answered the phone as he left the warmup room.

Yuuri turned his attention back to his instrument, quietly plucking notes from a passage of his piece.He was going to be fine.He kept repeating that to himself.He was going to be fine, he was going to succeed, he was going to do well, Viktor believed in him, Viktor-

“He really loves you.”Yuuri yelped in surprise as Seung-gil sat down against the wall within earshot of him.

“Wh-what?” Yuuri managed to stammer.

Seung-gil raised an eyebrow, absently smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants and adjusting the collar of his button up shirt.“Nikiforov,” he clarified.“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite this smitten before.”

“Really?” Yuuri squeaked.

Seung-gil rolled his eyes.“He’s acting like a lovestruck fool,” he said bluntly.“It’s very strange.”

“He’s normally like that,” Yuuri said with a frown.

Seung-gil arched an eyebrow.“You didn’t really know him before this,” he said, gesturing vaguely with one hand.“He _wasn’t_ like this before.I’ve competed against him before several times, and he’s always been aloof.He kicked my ass last year in the French Qualifier, and he barely even smiled when they announced that he had won, just nodded like he had expected it.He’s… different, now that he’s with you.Like I said, it’s strange.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to speak, but Seung-gil cut him off.“Anyway, I guess now that he’s gone for the season I actually have a chance at first.”

“Y-you don’t know that,” Yuuri stammered, not even convincing himself.“Maybe I’ll win?”

Seung-gil’s lips twitched slightly.“We’ll see,” he said.“I’m very motivated to win this season.  I’m playing for the glory of my country and myself.What are _you_ playing for?”

Yuuri opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to answer.Seung-gil nodded in satisfaction.Apparently deciding that his social capabilities had been used up for the day, the Korean man pulled out his phone and plugged in headphones before closing his eyes and shutting out the world.His fingers occasionally twitched, as if itching to be spread over the keys of a piano.

Yuuri sighed, running his thumb over the fingerboard.He wished he had brought headphones, if only to shut out the noise of Sara and Michele Crispino arguing and Emil warming up on his tuba.

Fifteen minutes passed, and when Viktor hadn’t returned yet Yuuri started to worry.The competition started soon, and although he was warmed up there was still a thing or two he wanted to ask Viktor about in terms of the music he was going to play.Another five minutes passed, and Yuuri stood, clutching his viola like a lifeline as he left the room to search for his wayward boyfriend.Viktor had probably just gotten lost, Yuuri reasoned to himself.The Russian man was intelligent, and a very talented musician, but navigation wasn’t exactly his forte.

Yuuri picked a direction at random and wandered for a few minutes, seeing no sign of Viktor.He turned and went in the other direction, and it only took a few minutes until he heard Viktor’s voice.

“Vitya?” he called tentatively, turning a corner to find Viktor standing with his hands in his pockets, listening with a bemused expression as a young man talked excitedly to him in Japanese-accented English.

Viktor turned when he heard Yuuri, and a relieved expression bloomed on his face.“Yuura!” he exclaimed.The boy who had been talking to him stopped abruptly and looked at Yuuri.His mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened behind the red-streaked blond bangs falling over his eyes.

Yuuri ducked his head.“Sorry,” he muttered.“I wasn’t sure if you had gotten lost.”

Viktor smiled.“No, just recognized,” he said, gesturing to the boy.For the first time, Yuuri realized that he was wearing concert attire, even though the sleeves of his shirt were currently rolled up to his elbows.

Yuuri smiled nervously, reaching up to adjust his glasses before realizing that they weren’t there.“Of course you did, Vitya, you’re rather famous.”

Viktor smiled at that for some reason, and said, “I got recognized because I’m associated with you.”

Yuuri blinked, nonplussed.“What?”

“Katsuki-sama!” the boy interrupted, finally finding his voice.He bowed low, and then said in Japanese, “It’s an honor to meet you!”

“I… um…” Yuuri stammered, at a loss.He had never been referred to as Katsuki-sama, not even by the few fans in Japan that he somehow had.

The boy straightened.“I play the viola too!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands together.“I’m playing today!”

Yuuri smiled anxiously.“I hadn’t realized there was another violist playing in the qualifier, congratulations.”

The boy beamed, looking so ecstatic Yuuri was a little afraid he was going to pass out.“No, I’m not a competitor,” he said.“I’m first chair of the accompanying orchestra.Katsuki-sama, do you really think I could compete one day?”

Yuuri blinked again, more than a little confused, but shrugged.“I, uh, I don’t see why not.”

The boy gasped in delight.“Really?!” he shouted.Yuuri anxiously tugged at his tie.Viktor looked between the two with an expression of equal parts amusement and confusion.

“My name is Minami Kenjirou,” the boy said, nodding seriously.“One day, I’ll compete against you, but right now I have to go.Good luck!”  He offered another bow before hurrying away.

Yuuri turned to a snickering Viktor, baffled."I have no idea what just happened," he admitted.

Viktor laughed."Are your fans not usually that excitable?" he asked.

Yuuri cleared his throat."I don't really have fans," he admitted sheepishly.

Viktor stared at him."You really think-"

"Viktor, I'm sorry, can we talk about this later?" Yuuri interrupted apologetically."The competition starts in five minutes."

Viktor glanced at his watch, and his mouth dropped open."Yuura. I'm so sorry," he said."I didn't notice the time."

"It's fine," Yuuri said, reaching out and taking his hand."I have my viola.Let's go."

"We're cutting it close," Viktor murmured, but laced their fingers together and let Yuuri lead them down the hallway.Sure enough, as they arrived the other musicians were filing out to take their seats.Seung-gil gave Yuuri a small nod as he passed.

"Do you have everything?" Viktor fretted.

"I have everything." Yuuri confirmed, holding up his viola and now."Hurry, we don't know where the auditorium is and I don't want to get lost." Viktor nodded, and then they hurried after the other musicians.

Yuuri took in several deep, shaky breaths as they entered the concert hall.He was playing last, right after Emil, and that was his absolute least favorite position to be in on the order.He would have to listen to all the other musicians be so much better before his performance, and then go onstage and somehow not look like a fool.

"Yuura," Viktor murmured, squeezing his hand.Yuuri closed his eyes and tried in vain to stop his hands from trembling so badly that the wood of his bow clacked against his fingerboard.

"You're fine," Viktor murmured, leading Yuuri to his seat between Emil and Viktor."I did some negotiating," Viktor whispered when Yuuri through him an inquisitive look."They let me stay with you."

"Thanks," Yuuri murmured, leaning his head against Viktor's arm.

They sat down just as the house lights dimmed, and Seung-gil walked onstage to enthusiastic applause.The coordinator made some announcement about Seung-gil and his career, but Yuuri's hearing had faded to a dull haze.Seung-gil sat down at the piano, and the audience quieted, waiting in breathless anticipation before the pianist began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hDXWK3W477w%20).The notes cut through the haze in Yuuri's mind, and he slipped out of his anxiety for a moment to listen to the music.Seung-gil was an unfairly talented musician, and that talent clearly showed in his piece as his fingers flew over the keys.His fingers moved faster, slower, and Yuuri started to realize that he didn't have a chance, not if this was what he was playing against, not if-

Viktor grabbed Yuuri's hand and pulled him out of his seat to the disgruntlement of the audience member behind them, and hurried Yuuri out into the hallway.The door closed behind them, and Viktor turned Yuuri to face him."Yuuri," he said seriously.

Yuuri didn't reply.He was too distracted trying to hear the last strains of Seung-gil's piece through the door.Slightly muffled, the music didn't appear to have any discernible errors.Yuuri's throat tightened.

Suddenly, Viktor's hand were over Yuuri's ears just as he heard a burst of applause."Don't listen," Viktor ordered, although Yuuri couldn't hear him.Yuuri stared at him wide-eyes, stomach churning, and raised his hands to rest on top of Viktor's.The Russian man nodded, gesturing for Yuuri to keep his hands over his ears as he slowly slid his hands off.Yuuri did so, even though he was desperately tempted to listen to the muffled voice announcing Seung-Gil's score.

"Don't listen," Viktor whispered again, and took Yuuri's hands off his ears.Yuuri heard a snatch of cello [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJA7U37SJBc%20) from inside the concert venue before Viktor put headphones in his ears and [Dvorak](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HClX2s8A9IE) flooded his hearing.

"Keep it," Viktor ordered when Yuuri moved to take the headphones out.Yuuri paused, and then nodded.Viktor pulled him into a tender hug, cupping the back of Yuuri's head and holding him against his chest as he rubbed his back.Yuuri closed his eyes and let the music and the warm touch of his boyfriend layer over his anxiety.

The first movement of the Dvorak slowly rolled into the second, and then the third, and the fourth was just starting when Viktor pulled out one of the headphones without letting go of him and said softly, "You're next.”Yuuri nodded numbly, fingers curling tight around his viola.He let Viktor take the headphones back and lead him into the auditorium just as the judges announced Emil's score (73.99%).Viktor kissed him on the lips as they called his name.

"Play so that you can be proud of yourself," he whispered."Play so that you can be just as proud as I am.I love you, solnyshko.”

Yuuri nodded."I love you too."

Viktor beamed at him, and then have him a small nudge in the direction of the stage."Go in, lyubov moya," he said."Show them how incredible you are."

Yuuri tried to nod again, and then turned and mounted the steps to the stage slowly.He walked across the boards to the center of the spotlights and made eye contact with the conductor, nodding sharply.His mouth was dry.He couldn't hear anything but the pounding of his heart in his ears, even as the orchestra rustled as they prepared to play.The whispered well-wishes from the front of the viola section went unheard.

The audience went silent, and Yuuri lifted his viola to his shoulder, trembling.He was going to mess up, he was going to fail, he didn't deserve to be here- 

_What are_ you _playing for?_

Yuuri paused.The moment stretched on. _What was he playing for?_ An answer slowly filtered in during the split second of silence.Maybe not a whole answer, but at least the start of one.

_What are you playing for?_ Yuuri was playing for himself.He was playing to prove that even with no confidence, even coming from the bottom, he could win.He was playing to prove that a violist was just as capable as a violinist or a pianist or a flutist.He was playing to prove that everyone who acted about him and loved him hadn't wasted their time and affection.He was playing to prove to himself that he was enough.

He was playing for _him_.

Yuuri drew his bow across the strings in the first [note](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I7FT0PHG9E), a slur soaring up to the rafters of the large space before the dynamic dropped to a trembling, longing note.Yuuri held the note, pushing the tempo like Viktor had told him, before letting it resolve into the next sweet chord.He played soft for a few measures, building so imperceptibly that the forte seemed like it had come out of nowhere before suddenly dropping off again.

Yuuri's eyes drifted closed as he played, trancelike.He didn't lose touch with the world.  He was perfectly aware of the wooden boards of the stage under his feet, the hot spotlight overhead,the eyes on him, the strings under his callused fingers and the viola under his chin, bow balanced in his hand.The world became a part of the song he was playing.The world _was_ the song he was playing.That was the story, or at least part of the story.

Yuuri breathed in deeply, inhaling the sharp scent of rosin as he bowed sharply into the last few measures before ending on a bright, strong note that he left to fade into the silence.Silence.Silence.And then the applause, loud and startling and surrounding Yuuri like a blanket.He hasn't failed.He hadn't flopped.Best of all, his song had _clicked_.

A grin spread across Yuuri's lips, wide and uncontrollable, and it stayed even as the qualifier coordinator walked onstage.She said something complimentary about the piece that Yuuri had played, a compliment he barely registered.Yuuri's eyes found Viktor in the audience, even though the gloom.The Russian man was crying, a hand pressed over his mouth.He met Yuuri's eyes, and nodded once.A tear trickled down Yuuri's cheek.

The coordinator glanced at him, smiled, and said to the audience, "Katsuki Yuuri, with a score of 81.62%, beating out Lee's score of 81.58% by 0.04 points."

Yuuri doubled over, crying with relief and elation.

He had won.

He had _won_.

He was going to the finals.

Before Yuuri could register it Viktor was up on the stage with him, and he was enveloped in an enormous hug in front of everyone.Yuuri was too overcome to care. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered again and again in Viktor's ear.

Viktor laughed wetly, crying as well, and rocked them back and forth."No, solnyshko, my Yuura," he whispered."That was all you.Thank you, my love."

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And as such the biggest question of the chapter has been answered: Will Yuuri make the finals?!?!? (lol we all knew he would). I'm not gonna lie, the next chapter will probably be just as late in the day, but we'll see. I'll be back on the 25th with the final part to the Tokyo Qualifier Arc. Until then, hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a phenomenal day, dear reader!


	15. A Realization in Hasetsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor has a realization in Hasetsu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a filler chapter, but... I hope it's fluffy enough to count as fluff? Idk I'm tired. Sorry this is so short. Enjoy!
> 
> Possible trigger: brief implied past homophobia
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor clung to Yuuri onstage until the event coordinators politely escorted him off so that Yuuri could receive his congratulations and award, and waited anxiously in the wings until his wonderful boyfriend could join him.Yuuri finally walked offstage, still clutching his viola and a bouquet of flowers and smiling beautifully, and Viktor latched onto him again.

“My Yuura,” he cooed, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek.“I’m so happy, lyubov moya.”

Yuuri smiled happily, kissing Viktor on the lips.“So am I,” he said shyly.“Vitya, I…”

“I know, solnyshko,” Viktor whispered, and pressed his face into Yuuri’s neck.“It finally clicked for you, didn’t it?”

“I think so,” Yuuri said uncertainly, anxiously readjusting the grip he had on his viola.“At least partly.”

“That was the best I’ve ever heard you play History Maker,” Viktor whispered, caressing Yuuri’s cheek with his fingertips, wrapping his other arm around the violist’s waist.

“That’s the highest score I’ve ever gotten in competition,” Yuuri admitted in wonderment.“81.62%.”His brow furrowed a little.“I don’t know if that’s enough to make it in the finals, though.”

Viktor didn’t let his smile slip, but it got slightly rigid.Yuuri was right, of course; he was the lowest scoring musician to make it into the ICC finals,81.62% was a perfectly respectable score, but it wouldn’t win the ICC with musicians like Christophe Giacometti and Otabek Altin playing, or even Phichit and Yuri Plisetsky.But he didn’t tell Yuuri that.

“Don’t worry about that right now, solnyshko,” he murmured, tenderly running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri brushed his lips against Viktor’s cheek.“I’ll try,” he whispered.

“What do you want to do?” Viktor asked, taking the flowers from Yuuri’s arm so that he could readjust his grip on his viola.

Yuuri took a breath, thinking.“Our flight to Fukuoka isn’t until tomorrow,” he said thoughtfully.“We have time to do something today if you want, as long as we don’t stay out too late.Maybe dinner?It’s past five.”

Viktor smiled at his boyfriend.“That sounds lovely, Yuura,” he said, grin widening as Yuuri shyly smiled back.

“I’m glad.”

“We should go back to the hotel to drop off your viola at least,” Viktor suggested glancing down at Yuuri’s viola.

Yuuri quickly nodded, clutching his viola close to his chest.“Should we go?” he asked, but before Viktor could answer the door behind them opened, and the other competitors filed out as the audience in the auditorium seemed to be leaving as well.Sara Crispino and Emil Nikola both smiled at Yuuri in silent congratulations, and even Seung-gil offered him a somber nod as he passed, more or less ignoring Viktor.

“Wait!” Yuuri called, stepping forward.

Seung-gil paused.“Yes?”

Yuuri swallowed, and then looked down shyly and said, “You… You did really well, Seung-gil.”

A flicker of _something_ passed over Seung-gil’s face, and he shrugged.“As did you,” he said, and then added in that same, expressionless voice, “You deserved every point you got.”

Yuuri blushed cutely, and averted his eyes in an innocently modest way.“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

Seung-gil’s lips twitched into the tiniest smile.“Good luck in the finals,” he said.“Extend my congratulations to Chulanont as well, if you would, since I won’t be there to compete myself.”

Yuuri smiled.“Of course.”

Seung-gil laced his fingers together and popped the joints, giving Yuuri one last grudgingly respectful nod before walking off in the direction the other competitors had gone.  For someone who had come  _so_ close to winning, the Korean man didn't seem terribly upset.  Maybe he was hiding it, or he could honestly admit when another musician was more talented that him or deserved a win.  Viktor admired that.  He had never been that strong.  

Viktor smiled at Yuuri, putting an arm around his shoulders.“You’re so modest, my Yuura,” he said softly.

Yuuri just shrugged.“Shall we go?” he said, and then looked worriedly down at his viola.“I’m always nervous about keeping my viola out too long when I’m not actively using it.”

“Because of your string snapping?” Viktor guessed as they walked towards the warm-up room.

Yuuri laughed a little bitterly.“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he admitted.“But enormous fuck-ups tend to make me nervous anyways.”

Viktor frowned.“I don’t think your string snapping was a fuck-up,” he said slowly.

Yuuri didn’t meet his eyes.“You know what I mean.”

Viktor opened his mouth, to press further, to try to figure out why his boyfriend was still upset about something that had happened more than nine months ago, but before he could say anything they had reached the warmup room and were face to face with Michele and Sara Crispino.

“Yuuri!” Sara exclaimed, and then to Viktor’s surprise threw her arms around Yuuri in a hug, heedless of the cello case on her back.

“Uh, hi!” Yuuri said in surprise, awkwardly holding his arm away from his body so his viola wouldn’t get crushed.He hesitantly patted her on the shoulder with his other hand.

“You were so good!” Sara exclaimed with bright eyes, finally letting go of Yuuri.Viktor barely resisted the temptation to take Yuuri’s hand, stake his claim on his boyfriend, because he knew that Yuuri would probably find the possessiveness irritating.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, predictably blushing.“S-so were you.”

“Sara should have won,” Michele said, patting his twin sister on the shoulder.He scowled, and grudgingly admitted, “But I suppose you weren’t awful.”

Yuuri, who didn’t seem to quite know what to make of that, just forced a smile.

Sara smiled brilliantly back.“It was wonderful to play against you again, Yuuri,” she said, and then to Viktor’s surprise and indignation kissed Yuuri on the cheek before saying to Michele, “Are you ready to leave, Mickey?”

“Hm,” Michele said distractedly, glaring at Yuuri.This time, Viktor did reach out and take his hand, lacing their fingers together.“We won’t keep you,” he said, giving Michele a level stare.  He hoped the message was clear.   _My Yuuri is taken, don't even risk humiliating yourself by suggesting that he's a danger to your sister._ “My Yuuri should probably pack up his instrument as well.”

“Good luck in the finals, Yuuri!” Sara said cheerfully before bouncing off in the direction of the exit, her brother close on her heels after one last glare over his shoulder at Yuuri.

“That was… interesting,” Yuuri murmured, still a little red in the face.

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“I don’t know how you can think that people don’t flirt with you,” he said.

Yuuri gave him a puzzled look.“Isn’t kissing people on the cheek a European thing?” he asked.

Viktor chuckled a little bitterly.“Sure, but that was flirting regardless.”

Yuuri just shook his head, doubtful.“Vitya, please,” he mumbled, shuffling into the warm up room.

They passed Emil, who was emptying his spit valve into a trash can, and Yuuri knelt in front of his case.Viktor watched with a fond smile as Yuuri gently cleaned the excess rosin off his strings and fingerboard with a soft cloth before laying the viola in the case and loosening the bow before packing that up as well.It probably said something that Yuuri took better care of his middle-range viola than Viktor did of his Stradivarius, but Viktor wasn’t exactly sure _what_ it said.

Viola put away, Yuuri stood and picked up his case.“I’m ready,” he said with a nod.

Viktor took one of the flowers from the bouquet he was still cradling in his arms, a dark blue flower with round petals, and tucked it behind Yuuri’s ear before kissing him on the tip of the nose.“Alright.”

Yuuri went red.“Vitya!” he gasped.

“You're adorable,” Viktor told Yuuri, and then took his hand.“I’m ready.”

Yuuri lowered his eyes, smiling slightly.“Alright.”

“I should make you a flower crown later,” Viktor said thoughtfully as they left.He thought he heard Emil snicker, but didn’t comment.

“Vitya!” Yuuri said again, a blush across the bridge of his nose.

Viktor just laughed, swinging their linked hands between them as they turned the corner and left the building.“You don’t like that idea?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Yuuri told him fondly.

“Thank you,” Viktor said seriously.

He looked thoughtfully up at the sky, enjoying the way Yuuri’s hand fit perfectly in his.The two made their way back to their hotel in comfortable, companionable silence, Viktor absorbing the city around them as they walked.Yuuri seemed surprisingly relaxed for someone who had just won what was arguably the biggest competition of his life so far, but Viktor suspected his boyfriend was still in a little bit of shock.

As soon as they got back to their room Yuuri put his viola away, made a beeline for the bathroom, and stood in front of the mirror, taking out his contact case and saline solution.“Why do you wear contacts, if you hate them so much?” Viktor asked, putting a hand on Yuuri’s waist as the younger man squinted at himself in the mirror.

“I don’t _hate_ them,” Yuuri said.“I know I look better with them.They’re just sort of uncomfortable.I never wear them long enough to build up the proper calluses on my eyelids for them to be comfortable.”

“You look good in your glasses, too,” Viktor said as Yuuri pinched out his left contact and put it in its little pool of saline.

Yuuri snorted.

“You do,” Viktor insisted, kissing Yuuri’s neck lightly.Yuuri stiffened in surprise, and then tilted his head slightly.“Vitya, I’m going to poke my eye out,” he said.

It was Viktor’s turn to snort, but he let Yuuri take out his other contact and slide his glasses on before wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist and whispering in his ear, “We could work up an appetite before dinner.”

Instead of getting flustered and red, like Viktor had expected, Yuuri just laughed.“Later, Vitya,” he said.“I’m already hungry.”

Viktor made a humming noise of consent.They had gone out for a late lunch, true, but Yuuri had only picked at his food, barely eating anything.In hindsight, he had probably been too nervous to eat, and was presumably quite hungry now that the stress was over for the time being.

“Let me change my pants at least,” Yuuri said, loosening his tie before pulling it off.“Where do you want to go for dinner?”

“Whatever you want, Yuura,” Viktor said with a smile.“You’re the man of the hour, after all.”

Yuuri chuckled.“That’s a new sensation, for sure,” he said.“Alright, why don’t we go to a “traditional” Japanese place?A touristy one, though, so there’s a better chance of finding something you’d like to eat.”

“I’m very open-minded,” Viktor said cheerfully.Yuuri just laughed, stepping out of the bathroom to get a pair of jeans.“I would change too,” Yuuri said, eying Viktor’s dress shirt and slacks.He gave Viktor a little push.“Go on.I’ll change and wash this damn gel out of my hair, and then we can go.”

Viktor nodded, leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him.Viktor changed, humming under his breath, and then sat down on the bed with his phone in hand.He hesitated only a moment, listening to the water run in the bathroom, and then dialed Yuri.

The teenager picked up on the fourth ring with a grunted, “What do you want, old man?”

“Hi, Yura!” Viktor said in a bright voice, laying down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.“How have things been?I saw on Instagram that you posted a picture of you and Otabek, how is he?”

“Is there something you wanted?” Yuri said aggressively, ignoring the questions.

“I just wanted to let you know that Yuuri won his competition, so we’ll be seeing you in Barcelona,” Viktor said with a small, slightly vindictive smile.

“Good, I’ll crush him,” Yuri said automatically, but Viktor could tell he didn’t mean it in a cruel way.

“I took a recording of Yuuri’s performance, do you want me to email it to you?” Viktor asked, idly toying with a loose thread on the bedspread.He turned his face and pressed his nose into one of the soft pillows.It smelled like Yuuri.

Yuri Plisetsky was quiet for a long moment, and then he snapped, “See if I care, old man!”

“Alright, I’ll send them to you before tomorrow,” Viktor said amiably.Yuri growled something that might have been a thank you.The water in the bathroom turned off, and Yuuri wandered out a moment later.

“How is Yakov?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri gave him a curious look.

Viktor gestured his boyfriend over, and pulled Yuuri down onto the bed next to him as Yuri said sharply, “Even older than you, which is saying a lot.How’s the bald spot?”

“Yuri, you wound me,” Viktor said with a small laugh, absently stroking Yuuri’s hair.Yuuri made a contented noise, resting his head on Viktor’s chest.

“When are you going back to America?” Yuri asked, voice surprisingly civil.

“A week,” Viktor replied.“We’re going to visit Yuuri’s family first.”Yuuri perked up at the mention of his name, and Viktor smiled fondly at him.

“Hmph,” Yuri huffed.“While you’re sightseeing, I’ll be getting ready to crush everyone into dust at the finals.”

“Are you over practicing again, Yura?” Viktor asked worriedly.

“I don’t over practice,” Yuri sneered.“Like Yakov would let me.He restricts my practice enough as it is.Him and stupid Beka.Don’t tell me you’re going to get on my case too, old man.”Viktor smiled.It was good to know that people were watching out for Yuri.

“I don’t think I need to.”

“Hmph,” Yuri said again, probably not nearly as grumpy as he intended to sound.

“Tell Potya hello from me,” Viktor said cheerfully.

“Tell Makkachin that’s she’s stupid and cats are better,” Yuri retorted, and this time Viktor could clearly hear the smile in his voice.

“Good luck, Yura,” Viktor said.“I’ll see you in Spain.”

“Whatever,” Yuri replied grudgingly, and then hung up.

“ Yuri Plisetsky?” Yuuri guessed from where he was lying next to Viktor as the Russian man turned off his phone and put it on the bed.

“Yep,” Viktor replied, tangling his fingers in Yuuri’s damp hair.

“Is he alright?” Yuuri asked.

“I think so,” Viktor said quietly.“He’s got people watching out for him.Yakov, Otabek… Hopefully they’ll keep him from getting hurt.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed.A smile tugged at his lips.“How else would he crush me in the finals?”

“Do you speak Russian?” Viktor asked in surprise.

Yuuri laughed.“Not any more than the few endearments I’ve picked up from you,” he said.“Yuri Plisetsky texted me this morning, wishing me luck in a very… roundabout way.”

“How many curse words?” Viktor asked with a laugh.

Yuuri considered that, and then said, “Three or four, depending on what you count as a curse.”

Viktor chuckled.“Are you ready to go to dinner?” he asked, kissing Yuuri on the top of his head.His hair smelled faintly of hair gel and shampoo.

“Mm, yes, I'm hungry,” Yuuri said, hugging Viktor.

Viktor huffed out a laugh as most of Yuuri’s weight settled on his chest.“You might have to get off me, solnyshko.”

Yuuri mumbled something in Japanese, unmoving.

Viktor smiled fondly, resting a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.“If you’re not going to move, we’re going to have a hard time going out to eat,” Viktor murmured.He let his fingertips trail across the back of Yuuri’s neck.“Unless there’s something else you’d rather I eat.”

“Vitya!” Yuuri immediately cried, slapping Viktor’s chest.Viktor just laughed.

***

It took them about fifteen minutes to get their act together, in the end, but Viktor was unspeakably happy as he walked hand-in-hand down the street with his boyfriend for a nice dinner out.

“You seem cheerful,” Yuuri observed thoughtfully as he and Viktor walked.

“I am cheerful,” Viktor said, squeezing Yuuri’s hand.“You’re going to the ICC finals!I couldn’t be more proud!”

Yuuri gave him a searching look.“Vitya, are you alright?” he asked softly, and Viktor realized he had automatically flashed Yuuri his media smile.

“Why wouldn’t I be alright, Yuura?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri chewed on his lip.“This is the first time in sixteen years that you haven’t performed in either Junior World Prodigies or the ICC.”

Viktor blinked in surprise, and forced a smile.“I’m fine, solnyshko, you don’t have to worry about me,” he said airily, hoping Yuuri wouldn’t notice the way his voice cracked slightly.

Yuuri frowned at him, eyes wide and serious behind his glasses.“Vitya,” he said in a firm voice.“You wouldn’t let it go when you thought I wasn’t well before the competition.Why shouldn’t I do the same for you?Please talk to me.”

Viktor let the smile slide off his face.“I can work through it on my own,” he said.“I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

Yuuri’s frown deepened.“Viktor-”

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri heaved a sigh, but didn’t press further.Viktor looked down at the sidewalk as they walked.He really _was_ fine, or at least fine enough to pass for fine.And he wasn’t jealous of Yuuri… mostly.He wasn’t jealous of his boyfriend in principle of course, he really was very proud, but it gave him an odd, shivery sort of feeling in his stomach when he thought about the fact that there was going to be an ICC he wasn’t going to be competing in.He hadn’t missed a competition since he had been old enough to qualify, and now he had skipped an entire season.And new musicians were rising up to carry on the legacy, including Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit, and his own lovely, wonderful Yuura.It made Viktor feel small, insignificant in the grand scheme of things.He wasn’t sure yet if he liked it.

Yuuri gently squeezed Viktor’s hand, bringing him back to the present.“Is this alright?” he asked, gesturing to a small restaurant off to the side.It wasn’t large, but was also on a main thoroughfare, which probably meant it accommodated to some extent to foreigners.

Viktor smiled, a genuine smile.“Perfect.”

Yuuri led them inside, and said something in Japanese before they were shown a table.“Is this what all restaurants in Japan are like?” Viktor asked with interest, looking around the room.

Yuuri smiled slightly.“The food we’ll get is Japanese, obviously,” he said.“But the format is a little more Western, to cater to tourists.”

Viktor nodded, smiling.“What would you recommend, Yuura?” he asked.

Yuuri scratched his chin, considering it.“I can order for you, if you like,” he said with a tentative smile.

“Probably wise," Viktor agreed.“Given that I speak very little Japanese.”

“You speak _any_ Japanese?” Yuuri said with a laugh.

Viktor smiled back.“Of course I do!” he exclaimed.“Sushi.Ninja.Teriyaki.”

“Oh, if that’s the qualification, then I speak Russian,” Yuuri teased, eyes sparkling.“Pirozhki.Solnyshko.Borscht.”

Viktor laughed, spirits bright.Someone came over, presumably to take their food order, and Yuuri ordered for them in fluent Japanese before turning back to Viktor.“I like it when you speak Japanese,” Viktor said thoughtfully.Yuuri went red, and gave him a scandalized look.Viktor laughed.“Not like that,” he said, and then paused.“OK, maybe like that, too.But you sound more… self-assured, in Japanese.It’s nice to hear you sound confident.”

Yuuri smiled softly at him, blushing slightly when Viktor reached out and took his hand."I could teach you some Japanese," Yuuri said shyly, letting his bangs fall over his eyes.

Viktor lit up."Really?"

Yuuri bit his lip."Kisu," he said, and then leaned over the table to give Viktor a quick peck on the lips.

"I think I like that word," Viktor breathed, pressing his fingers to his lips.

Yuuri blushed again, but he was smiling.

"So what did you order for us?" Viktor asked, sweeping his thumb over the back of Yuuri's hand.

"You'll have to wait and see," Yuuri replied with a grin.

"Hm," Viktor said, grinning back."What's your favorite food, at least?"

"Katsudon," Yuuri answered immediately.He cast his eyes upward, looking for the English translation."It's sort of like... A pork cutlet bowl?"

"Is that what we're having?" Viktor asked.Yuuri shook his head."No, I'm ruined for katsudon," he said."My mom makes it the best.Everywhere else just isn't the same."He smiled fondly."We'll probably have it when we're in Hasetsu, though."

"It sounds good," Viktor said."Then again, I know you have good taste, so I might be a bit biased."Yuuri smiled.

"Yuura," Viktor said quietly.Yuuri hummed, looking up at him."Do your parents know who I am?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri blinked."I... Yes, of course," he said in surprise."Vitya, most of the posters I have of you were gifts from my friends and family.I don't know why my parents _wouldn't_ know who you are."

"No, I mean-"Viktor paused, struggling to find the words, and then settled on, "Do they know I'm your boyfriend?Or that you're attracted to men?"

Yuuri's eyes widened in understanding."Oh!" he exclaimed."Yes.Yes, Vitya, they know that I'm gay and I've been seeing you.I'd like to introduce you as my boyfriend, if that's alright."

Viktor nodded vehemently."Of course!"

Yuuri bit his lip, and ten said in a low voice, "Does your family know about me?"

Viktor's smile took on an artificial edge."I'm not all that close with my family," he said."Yakov is more of a father to me than my father by blood."

Yuuri looked away."Vitya. I'm sorry.Are they-?"

"They were never abusive, if that's what you're asking," Viktor said."They don't agree with my "lifestyle."Most of the time they just ignore the fact that I'm gay, as if it will go away if no one mentions it."He looked up to see Yuuri frowning at him.

"Well, if your parents don't agree with you, then we can just share mine," Yuuri said resolutely after a long pause."Might as well, you're already as good as family."

Viktor blinked, and thebarked out a laugh in a moment of pure surprise."Solnyshko, was that a marriage proposal?"

Yuuri flushed, but didn't look away.Instead, he lifted Viktor's left hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles."Maybe it is.”

***

Despite Yuuri’s reassurances, Viktor was a nervous wreck by the time they were standing in front of Yuuri’s family’s inn the next day.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said quietly, cupping a slightly pale Viktor’s face.“You have nothing to worry about.”

Viktor laughed anxiously.“I know,” he said.“I’m… just super nervous, for whatever reason.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri repeated.“They’re going to love you, almost as much as I do.”

“Yuuri?”Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he and Viktor turned to see a woman of indeterminate age with long brown hair standing just inside the gate of the inn.

"Minako-sensei!" Yuuri exclaimed.The woman stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug, which Yuuri eagerly returned.After a long moment she held him away from her by the shoulders and said something reproving in Japanese.Yuuri laughed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before answering with a nod.Viktor absently picked at the handle on his suitcase, looking down and suddenly wishing he had put a little more effort into learning more Japanese than "sushi" and "ninja."

Yuuri turned to Viktor and took his hand, pulling him a little closer."Minako-sensei," he said, smiling at Viktor."This is my boyfriend, Viktor."He squeezed Viktor's hand."Vitya, this is my first viola teacher, Minako."

Viktor smiled at her."It's a pleasure," he said.

Minako gave him an appraising look,and then said to Yuuri, "I thought you were joking when you said that you were actually dating Viktor Nikiforov."

The tips of Yuuri's ears went red, but all he said was, "Don't you follow Phichit on Instagram?I know he had pictures of Viktor and I together."

"I've seen those pictures," Minako confirmed."But we both know that Phichit is a wizard with Photoshop."

Yuuri laughed softly."I suppose."

He looked up at Viktor with an adoring expression in his eyes.Viktor couldn't resist swooping down to kiss him on the cheek.

Minako cooed, and then said, "Your mother invited me over for dinner, Yuuri.I’m sureeveryone will all want to see you."

Yuuri nodded shyly."Of course." 

Minako grabbed one of their suitcases and lugged it behind her toward the inn, saying over her shoulder, "Don't dawdle, now."She skipped up the steps with more agility than one might expect from a woman of her age (was that 28? 45?79?) and sang cheerfully as they entered the inn, "Hiroko, Toshiya, you'll never believe who I found!”A friendly voice called out in Japanese from the kitchen, and Minako all but manhandled them into the room to find a short Japanese woman standing at the stove, cooking.  The woman turned when they came in, beaming.

"Yuuri!" She exclaimed, flinging her arms around his neck.Yuuri laughed and hugged her back with just as much enthusiasm.He said something in Japanese, voice muffled into her shoulder."Yuuri, will you introduce your boyfriend?" she asked in English.

Yuuri laughed and sheepishly."Mom, this is Viktor," he said, putting an arm around Viktor's waist."Vitya, this is my mother, Katsuki Hiroko."

Hiroko offered him a smile."It is good to meet you," she said, and then turned to Yuuri and said something in Japanese.

"What did she say?" Viktor asked when Hiroko turned back to the stove.

"Dinner is in about forty five minutes," Yuuri replied."My dad isn't home right now.I think he’s at the Ice Castle.”

“What’s that?" Viktor asked curiously.

“Local ice rink," Yuuri replied.“One of our family friends, Nishigori Takeshi, works there.My dad watched his kids sometimes.”

"We should go ice skating while we're here, then," Viktor declared, slinging an arm around Yuuri's shoulders.

Yuuri laughed."Sure."He kissed Viktor's cheek, and said, "Do you want to go in the hot springs before dinner?"

"That sounds excellent," Viktor said, rubbing his lower back.The airplane from Tokyo hadn't agreed with him.

"I'll show you where to go, then," Yuuri said with a nod.

"You're not joining me?" Viktor asked, more disappointed than he wanted to admit.

Yuuri smiled gently."I will," he said."I'd, um... I'd like to pay my respects to Vicchan, my dog, first."

Viktor's face softened."Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, pulling Yuuri into a hug.

Yuuri shook his head against Viktor's chest."This is something I need to do on my own," he said.

"Of course," Viktor replied.He kissed the top of Yuuri's head, and then let Yuuri lead him into the changing rooms and give him a green robe to wear while not in the hot spring.

Viktor gave a long sigh of contentment and relief as soon as he slipped into the warm water, muscles relaxing as he breathed in the steam and sulfur smell and closed his eyes.Even after being in Japan a few days, he was still a little jet lagged from the thirteen hour time difference between Tokyo and New York.The combination of the pervasive jet lag and the exhaustion of traveling had him sleepy and complacent in the calm, warm water.It was nice to be able to let go for a little. Let go of his responsibilities.Let go of the persona he had to keep up at all times.Let go of the worry, the anxiety, the resentment, the anger he sometimes felt about all the unfair things in the world.

Viktor was so relaxed, halfway to dozing off, that when Yuuri slid into the pool a while later Viktor hardly even noticed until Yuuri rested a hand on his wet shoulder.Viktor forced his eyes open and smiled up at his boyfriend."Hey," Yuuri said softly, carding his fingers through Viktor's bangs, damp with sweat and spring water."Hey," Viktor replied, reaching out and pulling Yuuri into his side.Yuuri giggled, resting his head on Viktor's chest, just above his heart.

"How are you doing?" Viktor whispered, pressing his nose into Yuuri's hair.

"I'm alright," Yuuri promised."It's... It's good to be back here."

"Did you miss it?" Viktor asked curiously.

"Hm," Yuuri hummed thoughtfully. He traced small circles in Viktor's bicep."I missed some things about it, sure," Yuuri said slowly."But New York City is just as much my home as Hasetsu is."He kissed Viktor's collarbone."Why?Do you miss St. Petersburg?"

"Not too much," Viktor admitted honestly."The man I love wasn't there, after all."

Yuuri blushed, burying his face in Viktor's chest."Vitya!"Viktor laughed."I love you too," Yuuri mumbled.He looked up at Viktor and blinked, eyes wide and honest without his glasses.

Viktor nuzzled his nose against Yuuri's cheek."Love you," he breathed.Yuuri smiled, leaning contentedly against Viktor's side, fitting perfectly together like they were melody and harmony from the same song.

Viktor wrapped an arm around Yuuri, holding him close."Stay with me," Viktor whispered in Russian.

"Always," Yuuri mumbled, sinking a little further into the warm water without relinquishing his hold on Viktor.

Viktor smiled, heart soaring."I love you so much," he breathed, lips against the top of Yuuri's head.Yuuri hummed in acknowledgement.

 _I_ _'m going to marry this man,_ Viktor thought.  Even though the thought, while entertaining, had never crossed his mind in a serious way, he knew suddenly that he would make it happen.  Now Viktor was serious, and the words rang true.   _He was going to marry Yuuri, someday._  

Viktor then closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation of Yuuri by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely made up the restaurant Viktor and Yuuri went to, because I have never been to Japan, so for all I know it COULD exist. (Probably not but oh well)
> 
> So that was the fluffs. The next chapter will probably also be the fluffs, disguised as plot. What's plot again? Hell if I know. I'll be back next week around Monday the 2nd of October (or the 3rd if AO3 decides to be difficult and make me time travel). Until then, hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a superlative day, dear reader!


	16. Something Round and Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri and Viktor spend time in Hasetsu, and then return to New York to prepare for the ICC Finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this chapter is a day late (or maybe two by date, who can even tell with AO3), and I'm sorry for that. Real life decided to be difficult and give me a lot of work, so I wasn't able to get this chapter finished in enough time to post yesterday, and I decided it would be better to post a day late then to deliver a rushed, shorter chapter. Next week, since I have a long weekend without classes, I should be able to actually post a chapter when I say I will. Thanks for understanding!
> 
> On that note, I hope you brought your toothbrushes, because this is fluffy enough to give anyone cavities!
> 
> ...Actually though, this is literally a chapter of pure fluff and I have no regrets. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuuri was remarkably embarrassed when he found that he had fallen asleep in the hot springs for the first time since he was a little kid.

He woke up slowly to the sound of an opening door, barely audible over the sound of the springs.“Yuuri, you’re not asleep, are you?” someone said in Japanese, and it took Yuuri’s muddled brain a moment to recognize the voice as his sister’s.

Yuuri opened his eyes to see her standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and a cigarette pinched between her lips.“Of course I’m not asleep,” Yuuri answered, hoping his voice was clear enough to sound awake.

Mari made a doubtful noise.

“I was just resting my eyes,” Yuuri said, blinking blearily at her.“It’s been a long day.”

Mari raised an eyebrow, but all she said was, “Wake up your boyfriend and come inside, it’s almost dinnertime.”

“Right,” Yuuri mumbled, waiting until she left and closed the door behind her before turning to Viktor.Sure enough, the Russian man was dozing against Yuuri, head resting on Yuuri’s shoulders and bangs falling over his eyes.His expression was relaxed, peaceful, the most calm Yuuri had seen it in a long time.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmured, resting his palm on the back of Viktor’s head to keep it from cracking against the rocks behind him in case he awoke with a start.“Vitya, wake up.”Viktor mumbled something in Russian and turned his head, pressing his face against Yuuri’s neck.“Vitya,” Yuuri whispered in his ear.“We have to get out, it’s time for dinner.”

Viktor was definitely awake, Yuuri could tell by the way the other man nuzzled against him and grabbed his hand under water, but he kept his eyes stubbornly closed.Yuuri tried to suppress his silent laughter.“Vitya, if you don’t get out, your skin is going to be all wrinkled forever,” he murmured.“Yuri Plisetsky will be able to call you old man, and no one will disagree.”

Viktor sat up straight immediately, and levered himself out of the hot springs.“It’s cold!” he whined, and then gave Yuuri a plaintive look.“Am I really that wrinkled?”

“No,” Yuuri laughed.“But that worked to wake you up, didn’t it?”

“Mean,” Viktor huffed, and then knelt by the side and offered Yuuri a hand.“Come on, if I have to be cold, you do too.”

“Fair enough,” Yuuri said, and let Viktor help him out of the water.

“I’m hungry,” Viktor said as he slipped his green robe over his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed wistfully, thinking of katsudon as his stomach rumbled.

”How long were we asleep?” Viktor asked.

Yuuri widened his eyes innocently.“ _I_ wasn’t asleep!”

Viktor snorted.“Sure.You snore, solnyshko.”

“Hmph,” Yuuri grumbled, stepping forward to assist Viktor with the tie on his robe after putting on his own.“No I don’t.Phichit would have told me.”

“Phichit would have recorded a video and posted it to Instagram,” Viktor countered.

Yuuri chuckled.“True.”

Viktor smiled fondly at Yuuri and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes before kissing him on the forehead.“Dinner?”

“Absolutely,” Yuuri agreed.

“Should we get dressed before eating?” Viktor asked as they walked inside, hand in hand.

Yuuri shrugged.“Only if you want,” he said.“I plan on going to bed after dinner, so I’m not going to bother.”

“Mm, yeah, bed sounds good,” Viktor agreed, and stifled a yawn against the back of his hand.“‘m tired.”

“You have an excuse,” Yuuri said.“You took a sleeping pill on the plane, that’s probably making you drowsy.I don’t know why I’m tired.”

Viktor shrugged.“I’m sure the last few days have been emotionally draining,” he said.“We were both stressed before the qualifier.”

“You didn’t seem stressed,” Yuuri said with an appraising look at his boyfriend.

Viktor flashed him a brilliant smile.“I’m just better at hiding it,” he said airily as the entered the dining room.

“Fair enough,” Yuuri laughed, and then pulled Viktor down to sit at the table next to him.Yuuri's mother came out of the kitchen a moment later, and smiled at them.

“Katsudon, Yuuri?” she asked, setting a bowl down in front of each of them.

Yuuri smiled up at her.“Thanks, mama.”

Hiroko laughed.“I’ll be right back.I seem to have lost track of your father and Minako.”

“Lost track?” Minako scoffed, wandering in with a bottle of sake.“Hardly.I went to find something to drink.”She sat down across from Yuuri and smiled at Viktor.“Do you want any?” she asked in English.

“What is it?” Viktor replied.

Minako grinned.“Alcohol.”

“Definitely,” Viktor said with a firm nod.He took Yuuri’s hand under the table, lacing their fingers together.Yuuri gave him a small smile, which Viktor returned.

“Here you are,” Minako said cheerfully, and slid a glass of sake across the table to Viktor.“Want any, Yuuri?” she asked.

Yuuri bit his lip.“I’d better not,” he said.“One of us needs to stay sober and keep out clothes on.”

Viktor froze, the sake halfway to his lips.“Who told you I strip when I’m drunk?” he asked with a teasing smile.“Was it Phichit?”

Yuuri raised his eyebrow.“Vitya, I saw you at Christmas,” he said.“You weren’t exactly sober then, either.”

Viktor chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.“I was surprised that I woke up as clothed as I did,” he admitted.

“Yeah, because I put your pants back on for you,” Yuuri muttered, rolling his eyes.He looked up to see Minako smiling at them.

“You two are a cute couple,” she said in Japanese.“I’m glad you found someone to make you happy, Yuuri.”

Yuuri could feel his face heat.“M-Minako!” he protested.

“Did you say something nice?” Viktor asked with a smile.He swooped in and planted a wet kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.“My Yuura is so cute when he’s embarrassed.”

“Vitya!” Yuuri mumbled.Viktor lifted his hand and kissed the back of it before taking another sip of sake.Of course, Hiroko chose that moment to return to the dining room, trailed by Yuuri’s father.

“So the rumor about your handsome foreign boyfriend was true,” Toshiya said genially, laughing as he sat.Yuuri just sighed, and resigned himself to a dinner of being teased by his family, his boyfriend, and his former viola teacher.

Mari wandered in, still smoking, and Hiroko gave her a stern look. “No smoking at the table,” she ordered.Mari rolled her eyes, but put out the cigarette anyway.Yuuri smiled slightly.Some things hadn’t changed.

The six dug in, and Viktor immediately exclaimed, “Vkusno!”

“I guess you like it?” Yuuri asked with a fond smile.Viktor nodded emphatically, mouth full.He went to pick up another bite with his chopsticks, struggling to pick a strip of pork.

“Here, like this,” Yuuri murmured.He put down his own chopsticks and helped Viktor position his hands correctly.“Try that,” Yuuri said, looking up to meet Viktor’s eyes.The Russian man was gazing at him looking utterly lovestruck, a blush high on his cheeks and a soft smile on his lips.Yuuri blushed, and smiled back a little nervously.If he had had eyes for anyone but Viktor, he might have noticed the ecstatic expressions on his parents’ faces, the amusement on Mari’s, and the quiet happiness on Minako’s. 

Yuuri absently helped Viktor navigate using chopsticks with a few gentle touches for the next few bites as he looked around the empty dining room and asked, “Where are all the guests?”

“They ate dinner already,” Hiroko said with a tiny smile.

Yuuri pressed his lips together, and then asked in soft Japanese, “Mama, how many guests do you have?”

Hiroko’s smile became slightly forced.“More than enough, dear, don’t worry about it.”Yuuri looked down at his bowl of katsudon.Viktor, clearly sensing that something was off, squeezed Yuuri’s hand under the table, but as he didn’t speak Japanese he clearly didn’t know what was going on.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Mari said in English, “So, Viktor, what would compel you to date my nerd brother?”

Viktor visibly lit up at the chance to talk about Yuuri.“He’s wonderful!” the Russian man gushed.“Yuura is the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

Mari smiled slowly, a little baffled.“His timidness doesn’t bother you?” Yuuri glared at his sister.Was she _trying_ to cause trouble?

Viktor smiled, putting an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.“Yuura might be shy, but he isn’t timid.No one who’s heard him play would ever think that.” Mari nodded, satisfied.It seemed Viktor had passed some sort of test.

“Are we going to get a concert?” Minako asked, propping her chin in her hands.

Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a yawn.“Not tonight,” he said, leaning into Viktor’s side.“Maybe tomorrow?”

“That’s better, anyway,” Hiroko said with a smile.“I’m sure the Nishigoris would like to hear you play.Do you know the triplets are making a string trio?”

“Really?” Yuuri said, perking up slightly.“What instruments?”

“Axel on violin, Lutz on viola, and Loop on cello,” Minako replied.

Yuuri chuckled.“I always knew I liked Lutz the best,” he joked.

Viktor leaned his cheek on the top of Yuuri’s head.“I don’t know, the violinist sounds admirable as well,” he replied.Yuuri turned his face, and Viktor obligingly kissed him.Yuuri happily returned to his katsudon, scraping up the last few bites with his chopsticks.

“Do you want more, Yuuri?” Hiroko asked, smiling as Yuuri pushed his bowl away slightly.

“I’d better not,” Yuuri sighed.

“And you, Viktor?” Hiroko pressed, turning her attention to Viktor.

Viktor smiled.“I’m fine, thank you,” he said politely, and then gestured to his bowl, still half full.“I’m a bit slower, you see.”

Mari grinned evilly.“Yuuri could just feed it to you,” she suggested.  Yuuri went red, and the suggestion even made Viktor blush a little.

“Yeah, do that!” Minako slurred, taking a large gulp of sake.Yuuri swallowed hard, and glanced nervously at his parents.Hiroko still had the same fond, loving smile she usually did, but it was now tinged with amusement.Toshiya looked like he was trying not to burst out laughing.

“Why are you torturing me?” Yuuri hissed at his sister in Japanese.

She rested her elbows on the table and said with a grin, “I need to make up for lost time.”

That struck a pang of homesickness in Yuuri’s chest, even if he was currently sitting in his family’s dining room eating his mother’s signature dish, but all he said was, “Thanks, Mari.I appreciate it.”Mari’s smile didn’t flicker, but it grew a little softer.She seemed to understand.

“So are you going to feed me or not?” Viktor asked teasingly, resting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri sighed.“I hope you’re joking.”

“Mostly,” Viktor chuckled, and stabbed at another pork cutlet with one chopstick.Yuuri winced, and corrected his boyfriend’s hands again.

“So what’s been going on in Hasetsu recently?” Yuuri asked.Hiroko smiled and began to fill him in on the most recent goings-on in the town, Minako and Mari occasionally chiming in, as Viktor finished his dinner.When the older man was finally finished, Toshiya quietly cleared the table.

“I’m sure you two are tired,” Hiroko said, patting Yuuri on the shoulder.Viktor murmured, leaning heavily against Yuuri.Although he had gotten his second wind during dinner, he seemed to be crashing hard.

“Yeah, a little,” Yuuri replied.

“Are you sleeping in Yuuri’s room, Viktor?” Mari asked.

Viktor blinked sleepily up at Yuuri.“Can I, solnyshko?”

“I- um, sure,” Yuuri stammered.“I mean, if you want.We’d have to share a bed, though.”

“That’s alright,” Viktor mumbled against Yuuri’s neck.“It’s not like we haven’t before.”

Yuuri blushed as Minako let out a bark of laughter and Mari snickered.“Not- not like that!” he said desperately, waving his hands.That wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss in front of his mother.

Mari just raised a doubtful eyebrow, and glanced significantly to the sleepy Russian hanging off of Yuuri.“Not like that, huh?”

“Shut up,” Yuuri mumbled, embarrassed.He stood, pulling Viktor up next to him.“Thank you for dinner, mama,” Yuuri said to Hiroko.“Is it alright if we go to bed?”

“Of course, dear,” Hiroko said kindly.“Viktor looks dead on his feet.”

“I’m _tired,_ Yuura,” Viktor whined, right on cue.He clung to Yuuri, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other clutching at his hand.“Also maybe a little drunk.”He hiccuped, and Yuuri glanced dubiously at the empty glass at Viktor’s place.Minako hadn’t given him _that_ much sake, had she?

“Goodnight, Yuuri,” Hiroko said, giving her son a half-hug around his clingy boyfriend.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Yuuri replied, and led Viktor into the inn to his childhood bedroom.It was only when he opened the door and flicked on the lights that he remembered exactly how many Viktor Nikiforov posters he _hadn’t_ brought with him to New York, but by then it was too late. 

“Ooh!” Viktor said, staring at the walls.“They’re all me!”

Yuuri sighed.“I guess the secret’s out, then,” he said, looking around.His room wasn’t plastered in posters, per say, but that was only because he had brought about half of them with him to college.That meant that there were more than enough examples of exactly how much of a fanboy Yuuri really was.

“What secret?” Viktor asked, wandering across the room to brush his fingers over a poster Yuuri had gotten in 2009, of a younger, long-haired Viktor standing with a string quartet on a stage.

“How much of a fan I was,” Yuuri mumbled.“Am,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Viktor eyed the posters for another moment before turning to Yuuri and giving him a heart-shaped smile.“Have I told you how adorable you are?”

“Almost every day,” Yuuri murmured, blushing a little.

Viktor crossed the room and enveloped him in a hug.“You’re adorable,” he muttered into Yuuri’s hair.“I should really say that every day.”

Yuuri rubbed Viktor’s back.“I thought you were tired,” he teased.

“I am,” Viktor replied, rubbing at his eyes.“I think I’m running on adrenaline.But if there’s anything that can overcome exhaustion, it’s your cuteness.”

“Oh, hush,” Yuuri said, turning away so Viktor couldn’t see how red his face was.He spied their suitcases in the corner of his room and walked over, tipping over his own so he could unzip it and take out his pajamas.Viktor came up behind him, resting his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders.

“You’re sure you’re alright with me sleeping in your bed?” he asked.

Yuuri straightened and glanced at his bed.It was bigger than a twin bed, but he and Viktor would still be close all night.“As long as you’re alright,” he replied.

Viktor gave him a long, gentle kiss on the back of the neck.“I’m always happy to cuddle with you, solnyshko,” he murmured.

Yuuri smiled at him, and kissed him on the cheek.“I, um… Likewise.”

Viktor smiled back, and then turned his attention to his own suitcase, pulling out a pair of sweatpants to wear to bed.Both men changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed together, Viktor curling his arms around Yuuri as Yuuri pulled the covers over them.

“Comfortable?” Yuuri laughed, reaching over to turn off the lamp as Viktor buried his nose in the dip of Yuuri’s collarbone.

“Very,” Viktor sighed, happily nuzzling Yuuri’s neck.Yuuri sighed, and pressed his lips to Viktor’s forehead.“I love you,” Viktor murmured.

Yuuri smiled slightly, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Viktor’s back underneath his fingertips.“I love you too.”

***

"Yuuri!"

"Yuuri, you're home!"

"Yuuri, why didn't you tell us you were dating Viktor Nikiforov?"

Yuuri opened his eyes as squealing roused him from his slumber, and blinked blearily at the three identical faces before him."Wha-?" he mumbled, trying to make sense of the situation.There were three children in his room, jumping around and chattering excitedly to him in high-pitched voices.Curled into his side, Viktor made a whining noise of complaint and clung tightly to Yuuri’s torso.Yuuri rubbed at his eyes, and then fumbled to slide his glasses up his nose, and the Nishigori triplets came into focus.

“Hi, Yuuri, are you awake now?” one of them (Loop?) asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” he mumbled sleepily in reply, raking his fingers through his hair.“What are you three doing here?”

One of the other triplets (possibly Axel) grinned at him.“Our mom brought us!” she said.“Minako said you were going to play a concert!”

It took Yuuri’s sleepy brain a moment to catch up with that.“Concert?” he repeated dumbly.

Axel nodded in agreement.“That’s what Minako said,” she reiterated.

“Solnyshko, what time is it?” Viktor mumbled, face pressed against Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Um…”Yuuri felt around for his phone, and then squinted at the screen.“It’s almost ten in the morning.”

“Ugh,” Viktor muttered.He huffed a sigh against Yuuri’s side, but sat up and tried to fix his bedhead.Yuuri smiled fondly and absently brushed Viktor’s bangs out of his eyes before noticing that the Nishigori triplets had gone suspiciously quiet.He turned his attention back to the girls to find that they had come to a standstill in a neat line and were all staring with wide eyes at Viktor and Yuuri together.

“Um… hi?” Viktor said uncertainly, blinking at them like he wasn’t quite sure what to think.

“Is it true that you’re dating Yuuri, Nikiforov-san?” Lutz asked, clasping her hands in front of her. Viktor stared at her in surprise.

“Yes, we’re dating,” Yuuri answered for him, and Viktor smiled at him, resting a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“We are,” he agreed, and placed an almost shy kiss on Yuuri’s hair.

Axel, Lutz, and Loop exchanged significant looks, and then said in unison, “The orchestra otaku are going to love this!”

Yuuri frowned, sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger.“Orchestra otaku?” he said with a nervous little laugh.“Is that even a thing?”

“And Yuuri and I have been dating for more than seven months now,” Viktor added, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder.“It’s not exactly new news.”

The triplets ignored the both of them, chattering excitedly amongst each other.Axel whispered something too quiet for Yuuri to hear, and both of her siblings screeched excitedly.

“Axel?” a woman immediately called from close by.“Lutz?Loop?”

"Is that Yuuko?" Yuuri said slowly.

"Hide us!" Axel cried, smothering a giggle behind her hand.Lutz hid behind Loop, all three triplets laughing as their mother barged in.

"What are you three doing?" Yuuko exclaimed, and then caught sight of Yuuri and Viktor in bed together. "Oh!" she said.

"Hi," Yuuri said a little awkwardly, waving a little.

Yuuko smiled at him."Hey, Yuuri!" she said happily."It's good to see you again."She put one hand on Loop's shoulder and the other on Axel's."I'm sorry about these three," she added.

"It's fine," Yuuri said."It's good to see you again too."

"I'll take these rascals," Yuuko said, herding her triplets out."Sorry again."

"It's fine," Yuuri repeated, laughing.Yuuko sighed, and closed the door behind her.

Viktor threw Yuuri a confused glance."Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," Yuuri said with a small shrug."Those were the Nishigori triplets, and their mother Yuuko.Yuuko and her husband Takeshi are older friends."

"Are they musicians?" Viktor asked curiously."The parents, I mean.I know you mentioned that the triplets are in a string trio."

"Yuuko used to play the cello," Yuuri said thoughtfully."That's how she and I met, actually.At music lessons.I'm not sure if Takeshi ever played an instrument, but he obviously didn't pursue it."

"Hm," Viktor said though thoughtfully."I see."He pulled Yuuri back down on the bed with him, and pulled the covers over both of them."Do we have to get up?" he complained.

"I think so, yes," Yuuri replied."It's nearly ten, like I said.And I'm apparently giving the Nishigoris, Minako, and my family a concert."

Viktor laughed, but didn't let go of Yuuri."I don't want to get up," he admitted."I want to stay here and snuggle with you forever."

"We'd get a little hungry," Yuuri pointed out.

"We'll just get people to bring us bowls of katsudon and plates of pirozhki," Viktor countered.

Yuuri chuckled, looking into his adorable, goofy boyfriend's eyes."As lovely as that would be, I think it's a tad impracticable," he said gently.

Viktor pouted."Come on, Vitya," Yuuri said, rolling out of bed and tugging Viktor with him."It's not that hard.  If I'm the one getting out of bed first, there's a problem."

Viktor pouted, but complied without too many complaints.The two got dressed and Viktor did his hair while Yuuri watched and smiled at him, and then headed out for breakfast.Almost immediately as soon as Yuuri was finished, he was accosted by the Nishigori triplets, demanding their concert.Before Yuuri knew it he was standing in the dining room of the inn, viola in hand, as his family, the Nishigoris, Minako, Viktor, and a few guests of the onsen all looked up at him expectantly.

“Uh… what should I play?” Yuuri asked nervously.

“What about your ICC piece?” Viktor suggested with an encouraging smile.

Yuuri nodded.“Yeah.Yeah, I can do that.”

He swallowed, strangely nervous.It wasn’t like he hadn’t played for his family before, but now that he had won his ICC qualifier he felt like the standards had risen.He couldn’t mess up, or they would see him as a failure.Well, except maybe Viktor, but Viktor could be a little blinded with love at times.

Yuuri swallowed hard and lifted his bow to the strings.He was fine, he tried to reassure himself.This was fine.He had nothing to worry about.This was just his family.They had heard him play a million times, and probably at a lot worse that he would play now.He didn't have to worry about their expectations.It wasn't like they were a panel of judges waiting to evaluate his performance.

Yuuri looked over his small audience, and caught Viktor's eye.Viktor gave him a big, encouraging smile, and blew him a kiss.Yuuri smiled back, took a deep breath and then played the first [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I7FT0PHG9E), quickly immersed in the music.This piece was _his_. He could own it.

Yuuri lost track of where he was for a little, completely and utterly focused on every note that came out of his instrument.He would show his family that all of their support, and all of his hard work, had paid off.

The last measure ended on a long, soft note that Yuuri let ring in the air for a moment before lowering his instrument.There was a beat of silence, and then everyone in the small audience began to clap.Even Mari, with a cigarette pinched between her fingers, gave her brother a few slow, loud claps.

"Yuuri, that was amazing," Viktor breathed.

Yuuri blushed a little."Thanks."

"Well, America clearly did something for you," Minako said approvingly after a long moment of silence."You've improved so much since I last heard you.”

Yuuri smiled gratefully."Thank you," he said."That means a lot coming from you, Minako-sensei."

Minako smiled back."I didn't recognize the piece, though," she said."What is it called?"

"It's called History Maker," Yuuri replied, looking down and fiddling with his A, run his finger up and down the string."I had it commissioned from one of Phichit's college friends."

"It sounded lovely, dear," Hiroko said with a wide smile.Toshiya nodded in agreement.

Yuuko pressed her hands over her mouth, and then said in a muffled voice, "God, Yuuri... You could win, with a piece like that."

"We're all on your side," Takeshi, sitting on Yuuko's left with one of the triplets settled in his lap, said.

"Can you play something else?" Lutz asked excitedly, eyes shining.

Yuuri shrugged, nodding timidly."Sure.Any suggestions?"

"Do you remember Pagani’s sonata?" Minako asked with a smile.

Yuuri smiled back."Of course!"

"What's that?" Viktor asked curiously, resting his chin in his hands, gaze completely focused on Yuuri.

"It was the first solo I performed in competition," Yuuri replied."I was... Fifteen?"

"Fourteen," Toshiya corrected."It was in October, just before your birthday."

“Right,” Yuuri said with a nod.He lifted his viola to his shoulder, and then said to Minako, “I haven’t played this in years, though.I might be rusty.”

“That’s OK,” Lutz exclaimed happily.She sat forward, attention fixed on Yuuri.“Whatever you play will be amazing!”

Yuuri offered her a nervous smile, and then closed his eyes before playing the first [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzIzMRxgF9Y%20) of the piece.In some ways, it felt like coming home just as much as going to bed in his childhood bedroom or eating his mother’s katsudon did.This was the first piece he had ever perfected for a competition, and the first piece he had ever _won_ a competition with.Granted, it had been a small competition limited only to his prefecture, but his parents had been so proud of him.And now he was a professional musician, after going to four years of college in a different country for his instrument, and was in love with a famous violinist.Things had changed a lot since the first time he had played these notes.

Yuuri opened his eyes a little as he reached the midway point of the piece, surveying his audience.Hiroko and Toshiya were both watching him with fond, proud smiles, and Mari was doing her best to hide her respect.None of his other family members were musicians, and his parents knew very little about how to even go about playing the viola, much less making it sound good, but they were able to appreciate beautiful music when Yuuri was able to make it.

Yuuko and Takeshi, who both knew a little more about music, listened with admiration, and the triplets were practically vibrating with excitement.Minako watched critically, probably itching to point out flaws in his performance and Viktor… Viktor was gazing at Yuuri with an honest, awestruck expression, love shining in his eyes.Yuuri’s chest felt tight with an odd, warm, fuzzy emotion when he noticed the was Viktor seemed completely enraptured with his performance, with _him_ , utterly focused on his music.

Yuuri exhaled slowly as the last few notes faded, and then the clapping from their small audience started again.

“Do you play professionally, young man?” one of the guests asked.

Yuuri swallowed and pushed his glasses up his nose.“I do, yes,” he said, suddenly worried that it probably seemed like he was showing off.

“Your slurs need to be more evenly spaced at times, and some of the higher notes sounded a little sharp, but that was impressive for not having played it in years,” Minako said with a raised eyebrow, and pushed her long hair out of her face.

Yuuri bowed slightly.“Thank you, Minako-sensei.”

“Do you take requests?” a guest asked.

Yuuri scratched the back of his head, a little confused.“Um, I mean… sure?I don’t know.”He could understand why his family might want to listen to his music, to see that their years of financial and moral support hadn’t gone to waste, but he hadn’t expected the guests at the onsen to be as into his “concert” as they were.

“Ooh!Play the Sarabande from Bach’s first cello suite!” Loop exclaimed.“That’s what I’m learning!”Yuuri laughed.

“Do you know that song, Yuuri?” Hiroko asked.“You don’t play cello, do you?”

“No, mama, I didn’t pick up another instrument in college,” Yuuri promised.“But I do know the whole suite.”He took a moment to remember the proper starting notes and then began the first [chord](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkSCUBxdG9k%20) with a soft smile.

He played a few more requests for the guests at the onsen and his family, including a violin [partita](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KaYzgofHjc), the melody from a[ symphony](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOk8Tm815lE), and a popular pop [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkkkc46Pit4), before Mari said unexpectedly, “Viktor, are you going to play anything?”

“Oh, I don’t have my violin with me,” Viktor said airily, waving a hand.

Yuuri didn’t even hesitate before wordlessly offering his viola, blushing a little.Viktor visibly lit up.“Yuura, really?” he said in an amazed voice.“You’d let me play your viola?”

Yuuri nodded.“Of course,” he said.

Viktor stood, and delicately accepted the instrument.Yuuri let go, trying to remember if he’d ever let Viktor play his viola before.Probably not, based on his boyfriend’s reaction.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Viktor said sincerely, quiet enough that Yuuri was the only one who could hear.

Yuuri blushed.“Vitya, you trusted me with your Stradivarius,” he pointed out.“There’s not much of a comparison.”

Viktor chuckled.“That’s one opinion, I suppose.”

Yuuri settled next to Mari, and she elbowed him in the side as Viktor lifted the viola and played a few experimental runs to get a feel for the instrument.“I don’t know how you did it, little brother, but I think you’ve found a good one,” she whispered.

Yuuri smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.“I think so too.”

“Any requests?” Viktor asked everyone, but he was looking at Yuuri.

Yuuri fiddled with his fingers, and then asked,“Can you play your Mendelssohn piece?From the ICC last year?”

Viktor smiled.“You like that one?”

Yuuri nodded.“Definitely.”

Viktor nodded, and then tucked the viola under his chin and raised the bow beforepractically gliding into the first high [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1dBg__wsuo%20), adjusting a little to the different tonal range of the instrument he was playing.

Yuuri inhaled sharply.Viktor looked at peace with an instrument in his hands, ethereal, completely in his element.But there was something wonderfully familiar to Yuuri, almost intimate, about Viktor playing the piece on _his_ viola, in _his_ house.The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest returned, filling the spaces between his ribs as Viktor crooned through slower parts before coaxing impossibly high notes out of the instrument, eyes half-closed and expression dreamy.

Yuuri couldn’t help but sigh happily as the cadence of the music changed, becoming faster and swooping before transitioning into a gentle, almost longing section, to another quick and dramatic section.He finished with a blindingly fast flurry of notes and double stops that put Yuuri on the edge of his figurative seat, climbing higher and higher, before finishing with a flourish, breathing a little harder than normal.

“How was that?” Viktor said after a moment of silence, smiling at an astounded Yuuri.

“Oh my god, Vitya,” he whispered.“I… I knew you could play but… Wow.I… Wow.”

Viktor covered his smile with his hand.“You enjoyed it, then?”All Yuuri could do was nod.

Viktor chuckled, and handed Yuuri his viola back.“I think that’s enough for now,” he said, absently flexing his left wrist.He turned to Takeshi.“Yuuri mentioned that you work at an ice rink,” he said.“Is it open today?”

Takeshi considered that.“It’s technically not,” he answered, and then clapped Yuuri on the shoulder.“But I can open it up for you and Yuuri if you want.You can have the ice to yourselves.”

Viktor nodded excitedly.“Would you?” he said.“Thank you!”

Yuuri stood.“I’ll put away my viola, then,” he said.

Viktor gave him a peck on the cheek.“I’ll meet you, solnyshko.”  As Yuuri left he heard Yuuko ask Viktor what solnyshko meant.He could hear the resulting squeal from his bedroom.

Once at the ice rink, Viktor wasted no time in sitting down to lace up the pair of skates he had rented.Yuuri was a little slower, taking his time to make sure both of the skates were on comfortably.He and Viktor had gone on several ice skating dates in New York since their first one, and Yuuri was finally able to skate on his own.That didn’t change the fact that he and Viktor clung to each other on the ice anyway, holding hands and leaning against each other, sharing the occasional kiss.

Viktor laughed as he was dragged out onto the ice by the Nishigori triplets, and Yuuri watched with a fond smile as his boyfriend let Axel and Loop pull him in circles while Lutz did waltz jumps around them.

Yuuko sat down beside Yuuri.“You really love him, don’t you?” she murmured, eyes on Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded.He knew he had an awed, lovestruck, smitten expression on his face, but he couldn’t help himself.He never could, not when it came to Viktor.“I really do,” he agreed.

Yuuko smiled at him.“I’m glad you two found each other,” she said softly.“I’m glad to see you so happy, Yuuri.”

“Yuura, aren’t you coming?” Viktor called, and then laughed as Axel almost pulled him over in excitement.

“Go ahead,” Yuuko said, nudging him.

Yuuri smiled at her, and then skated out onto the ice towards his love.

***

_Slur… just a little faster, and transition into the quick part, count the beats, damn hit that one too sharp, and I love this part so much it makes me think about home, quarters, sixteenths, slurred eighths, and that’s the last trill, last chord!_

Yuuri lifted his bow off the strings and waited a moment before relaxing.

“Not bad,” Viktor observed from where he was stretched out on Yuuri’s bed, drinking tea and annotating sheet music.He raised his eyes.“It definitely sounds better since the Tokyo qualifier.”

Yuuri smiled a little nervously.“Thanks.”He plucked at his strings, sounding out the melody.

Viktor smiled back, taking a sip of his tea.“What do you want to work on?”

“Maybe measure thirty-something?”

Viktor nodded in agreement.“Whatever you want.”

Yuuri raised his viola again, considering that thoughtfully.In the three weeks since the qualifier Viktor had taken to marking up Yuuri’s sheet music while he played from memory, taking note of things that could be improved.It made Yuuri a little nervous, because Viktor always looked so serious when he was watching Yuuri over music and writing _so much_ (even though half the time he was just doodling hearts and poodles in the margins), but Viktor’s notes were undeniably useful for Yuuri’s practice.

Yuuri played a few measures, and then stopped when he noticed that Viktor was just staring at him.“What?” he said self-consciously.

“You’re gorgeous,” Viktor blurted, and then blushed a little.

Yuuri went red, and stammered for a moment before exclaiming, “Vitya!”

Viktor regained his composure and shrugged carelessly.“It’s the truth, solnyshko.”

Yuuri swallowed, and then murmured shyly, “You’re not so bad looking yourself.”

“Yuura!” Viktor cooed.He patted the bed beside him.  "Come sit with me."

“Don’t I need to practice more?” Yuuri said with a frown.“We leave for Barcelona in three days.”

Viktor made an unconcerned gesture.“Yuura, the piece is just as perfect as you are,” he said.“Now that you’ve got those issues with the slurred run in seventy seven figured out, you’re pretty much good to go.Come, sit.”

Yuuri gave him a look, but set his viola down on his desk and sat down on the bed next to Viktor.

“You’re definitely going to win,” Viktor said confidently.“There’s no way you can’t, not if you play for the judges like you always play for me.”

“It’s the judges that are the problem,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down at his lap.

Viktor took his hand, stroking his thumb over the back of it.“I believe in you, lyubov moya,” he said earnestly.“I really do.And I love you so much, my beautiful, amazing, incredible boyfriend.”

Yuuri gave him an odd look.“Why do I feel like you’re buttering me up for something?” he asked suspiciously.

Viktor blinked.“I am?” he said in surprise.

Yuuri smiled slightly.“The compliments seem a little over the top, even for you,” he replied.

Viktor laughed, and maybe it was Yuuri’s overactive imagination but he seemed a little nervous.“If I am buttering you up, it’s not on purpose,” he replied, fidgeting on the bed and absently playing with Yuuri’s fingers.

Yuuri frowned.“Vitya, is everything OK?” he asked.Viktor had been more fidgety and excitable since they had come back from Hasetsu, and for the life of him Yuuri couldn’t figure out why.Maybe Yuuri’s family had overwhelmed him?

“There’s… there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Viktor said suddenly, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

Yuuri looked up at him sharply to see Viktor gazing back with a serious expression.“Yes?” he said, mouth dry.

Viktor took a deep breath, and then took Yuuri’s other hand, facing him on the bed.“My Yuura, my angel,” he started.“I love you so much.I’m sure you know that.”

Yuuri swallowed hard.That sounded like the beginning of what someone might say in a breakup.“Vitya-”he tried to say, but Viktor interrupted, lifting Yuuri’s left hand to his mouth and tenderly kissing his fingertips.

“Let me finish, darling,” he said softly, and then met Yuuri’s eyes.“Lyubov moya, I know we’ve only known each other for a bit less than a year, and we’ve only been dating for eight months, but I’ve fallen so hard for you.I never expected this, but I am so, so glad it happened anyway.I thank the universe every day for letting me meet you, I… goddamn, I wish I were more eloquent, I wish I could put into words how much I love you, but I don’t think words are enough.”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat, and wild hope flared in his chest.Was this going where he desperately hoped it was?

“And Yuura…” Viktor said softly.His hands were trembling a little, and he paused a moment to collect himself before continuing.“I don’t want to go back to the way things were before.I want this forever.I want you to be my forever.Life without you… it just doesn’t mean as much.I don’t want to live without love anymore.So… we don’t have to do it right now if you don't want to, but… will you marry me one day?”

He let go of one of Yuuri’s hands to fumble in his pocket, and then pulled out a small box covered in black velvet.He fiddled with it for a moment before opening it to reveal the two golden rings nestled inside.

Tears were streaming down Yuuri’s face, and Viktor was a little blurry when he looked up at Yuuri with wide, vulnerable, hopeful eyes.Yuuri tackled him in a hug, clinging for all he was worth.“Vitya, yes, Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, overcome, punctuating his words with several kisses to Viktor’s cheeks and nose.

An enormous, beautiful smile bloomed on Viktor’s face.“Really?”

“Always,” Yuuri murmured, pressing his nose into Viktor’s neck.

Viktor cupped Yuuri’s face with one hand and kissed him, lips salty with tears.When they finally broke apart, Viktor slid the ring onto Yuuri’s right ring finger with trembling hands, and then Yuuri returned the gesture, doing his best not to cry harder.

Viktor lifted Yuuri’s right hand and kissed the ring, kissed his palm, kissed the inside of his wrist.“Oh, god, Yuura,” he murmured, bangs falling over his eyes.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor threw his arms around Yuuri again, face pressed against Yuuri’s shoulder, ring cool against the skin of Yuuri’s arm.“I love you so much,” Viktor returned in a choked-up whisper.

Yuuri just rocked him back and forth, taking comfort in his familiar warmth, too overcome with emotion to say anything more.

Yuuri had always been one to worry about After.But their After suddenly seemed so much brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone's wondering, I was listening to the piece Viktor plays on a loop and I think it's one of my new favorite songs (now I just need to find a viola arrangement :D) And I literally made myself tear up when Viktor proposed, help
> 
> Next week I promise plot will (hopefully) occur! I'll be back on Monday, October 9th, hopefully on time for once because I'll have actual time to write and therefore less of an excuse. I also plan to finally post another one shot in this universe maybe Wednesday or Thursday? It's almost done, it just needs editing and stuff. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a grand day, dear reader!


	17. My Home is Where You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the six finalists and Viktor go sightseeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how happy I am that this fic is currently EXACTLY 100,000 words. I tried so hard :D Also, I apparently can't deliver on plot because fluff? I don't know. The summary for this chapter in my planning doc was literally: -Fluff -Interaction with other people (JJ is an asshole and then he's not) -A WILD YURIO HAS BEEN SPOTTED
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“The ICC is different from any other competition you’ve ever competed in, I can guarantee that,” Viktor said seriously as he, Yuuri, and Phichit waited at their gate in JFK for their flight to Barcelona.

“I know we’re not you, Viktor, but Yuuri and I _have_ both done some high profile competitions,” Phichit returned, lacing his fingers together and cracking his knuckles.He smiled at Viktor, to show that he wasn’t insulted or anything, and then added, “Yuuri won North Americans two years in a row.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down.

Viktor kissed him on the temple.“You’re insulting my favorite musician, solnyshko.”

Yuuri blinked owlishly at him, cute brown eyes wide.“I am?”

“Lyubov moya, you’re my favorite _everything_ ,” Viktor said.He leaned over and gave Yuuri a sweet, gentle kiss on the cheek, taking his hand and brushing his thumb over the ring on his fiancé’s finger.

Viktor heard a snicker from Phichit’s direction, and then the tell-tale click of a shutter.Sure enough, his phone buzzed in his pocket a moment later when Phichit updated his Instagram.

Yuuri smiled shyly back at Viktor and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before saying, “You were telling us about the ICC finals?”

“Right,” Viktor said, shaking his head a little as if to wake himself up.He got so caught up in how amazing Yuuri was, and how much he loved him, that he forgot sometimes that other people existed.Viktor leaned back a little, far enough that the scent of Yuuri’s shampoo wouldn’t distract him but not so far that they couldn’t hold hands, and said, “For one, the final is the most highly publicized musical competition in the world.There will probably be multiple television channels airing the competition across the world, and bucketloads of reporters.Everyone will want an interview from the finalists.”

Yuuri shrunk in on himself a little, looking anxious.Viktor stroked the back of his hand.“Don’t worry, solnyshko, most of the reporters are very polite,” he said.“There have only been a few issues.There’s lots of security to make sure people behave, and to make sure no one takes the valuable instruments.”

Yuuri nervous looked down at his feet to where his viola case sat, and Phichit reflexively put a hand on top of the clarinet case balanced on his lap.

Viktor chuckled.“Theft isn’t really too much of a concern, don’t worry,” he said.“Every finalist gets their own private practice room at the venue, and those can be locked.The only instance of theft I can remember in the past decade or so was when someone stole their competitor’s flute in an attempted sabotage.”

“Did they get caught?” Phichit asked.

Viktor nodded.“Eventually,” he replied.“The flutist had to play on a different instrument, though.They were given some allowances for that.”

“Who won, then?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor smiled.“I did, of course,” he replied.“That was my second consecutive win.Everyone else was vying for second.”

Yuuri gave him a long look, and then shook his head and sighed fondly.“We have to work on your modesty, Vitya,” he murmured.

Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s fingers a little tighter.“My modesty is fabulous,” he joked.

“We get practice time too, right?” Phichit asked, looking up from his phone.

Viktor nodded.“Right.For the qualifiers you just went in on the day of and played your best.The focus was the individual’s music.But for the finals, every competitor gets two hours of practice with the supporting orchestra in order to ensure that every performance is the best it can possibly be.”

“Good,” Phichit said with a satisfied nod.“I was a little nervous about performing without practice last time.”

“Are the practice times assigned yet?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor shook his head.“You’ll draw lots once we get there,” he replied.“Hopefully you’ll get in on the second day, but even if you don’t I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Yuuri fiddled nervously with the zipper on his fleece, avoiding Viktor’s eyes.Phichit, sensing that they needed a moment alone, stood and said, “I’m going to go on one last rest stop before our plane boards.”

Viktor nodded in acknowledgement without looking away from Yuuri. Phichit wandered away, smiling down at his phone, and Viktor took both of Yuuri's hands in his."Solnyshko," he murmured."What are you worried about?"

Yuuri forced a smile. "Just the usual," he said with false cheer."You know, the crippling fear of failure.It's fine."

"What can I do to help you?" Viktor pressed.

Yuuri carefully traced a finger over the gold ring on Viktor's finger."You've done everything I ever dreamed of, and then some," he murmured, and then nervously lifted Viktor's hand to his lips and kissed his ring.

"Oh, zvezda moya," Viktor whispered.He caressed Yuuri’s cheek with one hand, and then leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss.“I love you,” he said softly against Yuuri’s lips.

“I love you too,” Yuuri replied, gentle fingers running through Viktor’s hair.

Viktor smiled slightly, leaning his head against Yuuri’s shoulder when their kiss ended.“I’m so glad you’re going to marry me,” he said into Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri chuckled, rubbing Viktor’s back.“I should be the one saying that.”

Viktor kissed him on the cheek.“Solnyshko, don’t argue with me,” he said. Yuuri smiled a little wider, fingers curling into Viktor’s shirt.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Viktor said.

He could feel Yuuri inch a little closer, leaning against the plastic arm of the chair he was sitting in to hug Viktor.“I’m lucky to have _you_.”

“Are we going to be _that_ couple?” Viktor asked, letting go so Yuuri could sit more comfortable.

Yuuri cocked his head curiously.“What couple?”

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand, absently tracing hearts and stars on his palm.“The couple that’s always over the top and affectionate with each other,” he answered, smiling so Yuuri would know he was kidding.

Yuuri smiled back.“There are worse things we could be,” he pointed out, fingers curling around Viktor’s hand again.

Viktor’s smile grew.“That’s very true, solnyshko.”

They sat in comfortable silence, still holding hands, and Viktor leaned his head against Yuuri’s shoulder even though it was a little uncomfortable working around the arm of Yuuri’s chair.That’s how Phichit found them when he came back, clinging to each other like it was the last time they would ever get to hold each other.

“You two are so cute,” Phichit said with a grin as he sat back down on Yuuri’s other side.“You’re lucky to have him, Viktor.”

Yuuri went a little red, and tried to protest, but Viktor silenced him with a kiss.“He’s right, dear,” he said quietly, and then lowered his head and kissed Yuuri’s engagement ring.“I’m so lucky that I get to have you for the rest of our lives.”

“I _still_ can’t believe you didn’t tell me Viktor proposed for _five hours_ , Yuuri,” Phichit complained, grinning cheerily.

Yuuri bit his lip to hide a smile.“It wasn’t that long,” he said.“And you were in class.”

“Still,” Phichit said dramatically, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.“Do you know how many Snapchats I could have sent in five hours?How many gif sets I could have made?”

“Um…?” Yuuri said, looking baffled.

Viktor kissed his fiancé’s jawline.“We were a little occupied, anyway,” he purred.

Yuuri went red again, but otherwise ignored him.“Phichit, you were the first one we told, anyway.You took precedent over my parents.” 

Phichit patted him on the head.“That is because you are my smol son,” he replied.

Yuuri just rolled his eyes.“You’re ridiculous,” he said fondly.

“Maybe,” Phichit laughed.He looked up as an announcement rang over the loudspeaker, echoing slightly in the large open space.

“Is that us?” Yuuri asked.

“We’re group three,” Phichit replied.“Dibs on the window seat, by the way.”

Yuuri nodded.“As long as Viktor can have the aisle.”He turned to Viktor, eyes wide, as if something had just occurred to him.“Are you planning on taking any sleeping pills?” he asked softly, quiet enough that Phichit wouldn’t be able to hear.

Viktor considered that, and then shook his head.“I think I’ll be fine,” he said.“I want to be alert when we get to Barcelona, seeing as it won’t be very late there.I want to try to battle jet lag as much as possible.”

“But will you be alright?” Yuuri pressed.

Viktor nodded.“This is a bigger plane than the flight from Tokyo to Fukuoka, so I think I’ll be fine,” he said, and then squeezed Yuuri’s hand.“Besides, I’ll have you to hold on to.”

Yuuri blushed a little, but smiled at him.“Always.”

Another announcement came on the loudspeaker, and Phichit tapped Yuuri on the shoulder, smiling at Viktor.“That’s us,” he said.“Who has the tickets?”

“I do,” Yuuri mumbled, digging for the wallet in his pocket.Viktor stood, grabbing his satchel and grabbed Yuuri’s backpack for him while his boyfriend handled the tickets.He knew better than to handle another musician’s instrument without warning, even if that musician was his fiancé.Phichit fumbled with his own bags before regretfully stuffing his phone in his pocket, at least for the time being.

The three musicians made their way to the line to get onto the plane and it wasn’t long before they reached the front and their tickets were checked.Yuuri took his backpack from Viktor and then laced their fingers together, both ignoring Phichit’s squeal.

“I’m so excited to go to Barcelona!” Viktor chirped as they walked together down the bridge to the plane.He was practically skipping, swinging his and Yuuri’s linked hands between them.“What is it kids these days say?This is going to be… lit?”

Phichit stared at him in horror.“Viktor, just never say that again, please,” he said before walking ahead and shaking his head in astonishment.

“It’s alright, dear, you did fine,” Yuuri whispered when Viktor stared after him in shock.“I don’t understand American slang any more than you do, and I’ve lived in New York for five years.”

Viktor laughed a little nervously as they entered the plane and made their way down the aisle.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yuuri asked worriedly, putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder from behind.

“I promise I’ll be just fine,” Viktor said in what he hoped was a soothing voice.Hopefully Yuuri couldn’t hear his thundering, frantic heartbeat.As much as Viktor loved Yuuri for worrying about him, and sincerely appreciated that Yuuri cared about his health and wellbeing, it didn’t help to constantly be reminded that he was nervous.Maybe if he acted as normal as possible, Yuuri wouldn’t worry about him as much.

They reached their row, about in the middle of the plane, and Viktor stepped past the seats to let Yuuri get in before him.“Do you want me to put your viola in the overhead?” he asked, smiling at Yuuri.

His fiancé smiled gratefully back.“Thank you, Vitya,” he said, and carefully handed Viktor his viola.Viktor took it with a solemn nod and carefully slid the case into the overhead bin, in-between the side and a duffle bag so it wouldn’t slide.That done, he reluctantly sat down in his seat and sighed.

“Just to be clear,” he said to Yuuri and Phichit.“If either of you come in anything but last place at the finals, I’m upgrading all of us to first class on the flight back.”

Yuuri blinked at him owlishly from behind his glasses.“But Vitya,” he said uncertainly.“It would be almost impossible for us to _both_ come in last place.”

Viktor smiled at him, and pecked him on the cheek.“Exactly.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but he was clearly fighting a smile.“At least this flight isn’t as long as the one to Tokyo was,” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah, only almost eight hours, instead of fourteen,” Viktor said, rolling his eyes and flopping against Yuuri.His fiancé laughed, and moved the armrest up so they could lean against each other properly.

“I, for one, am all in favor of that plan,” Phichit said, fiddling with his headphones.“Seat changes can be on me, I’ll pay with my first prize money.”

“You’ll have first prize money?” Yuuri said innocently, widening his eyes at his friend.“Are you planning on stealing the money from me?”

Phichit laughed, poking Yuuri’s cheek.“That’s the spirit,” he said cheerfully, and then held up his phone.“I have all six King and the Skater movies dowloaded and queued up, anyone else interested in a marathon?”

“No thanks, I’ve already seen all of them at least four times,” Yuuri laughed.

“Maybe another time, Phichit,” Viktor added with a smile.

“Suit yourselves,” Phichit said with a shrug, and then plugged his headphones.“See you in eight hours!” he added happily before turning his phone on airplane mode and starting the first movie.

Viktor snickered, and then dug his own headphones, his phone, and a book out of his satchel before sliding it under the seat in front of him.Yuuri fiddled with his phone a minute, and then said hesitantly, “I downloaded a few movies as well.We, um… We can watch one, if you’re interested.You can choose.”

Viktor laughed, kissing his cheek.“I’d love to,” he said.“Learn your lesson on the flight to Japan?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri answered, grinning.

The plane jolted underneath them, and Viktor instinctively grabbed the first thing he could reach, which happened to be Yuuri’s forearm.“Hey, you’re alright,” Yuuri murmured soothingly, rubbing Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.It was embarrassing enough thatYuuri knew about his weakness, even if his fiancé didn’t judge him for it.He didn’t want Phichit to know as well.The Thai man wouldn’t be mean about it, but Viktor knew for a fact that he would tease him.Luckily, Phichit was already completely enraptured with his movie, slumped in his seat a little and mouthing along to the words of whatever song was playing.

“I’m alright,” Viktor whispered.With trembling fingers he plugged his headphones in and tried to unlock his phone, but his thumb was shaking too much for the fingerprint reader to work.

“Here,” Yuuri said quietly, taking the phone from his hands.A moment later the comfortingly familiar [strains](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZmiEiPeHwmo%20) of Prokofiev filled his ears, blocking out the noise of the engines.Viktor managed to relax slightly and leaned against Yuuri.Yuuri put a hand on his knee, squeezing slightly before letting go and taking Viktor’s hand, resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder.Viktor sighed, leaning his head against the top of Yuuri’s, smiling slightly when Yuuri’s soft hair brushed his cheek and the smell of Yuuri’s shampoo filled his nose.Yuuri exhaled, breath warm on Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor relaxed further when he felt Yuuri absently tracing patterns on the top of his thigh. Viktor barely noticed the plane taking off, trying to figure out if Yuuri was writing words in English or Japanese on his leg.

The plane had leveled out by the time the last energetic movement of the piece had finished, and Viktor opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the plane for a moment before turning to Yuuri.The Japanese man had his own headphones in and was leaning against Viktor with his eyes closed, but he clearly wasn’t asleep, based on the way he was still tracing what Viktor now recognized as kanji characters on Viktor’s leg.Viktor took out one of his headphones and stole one of Yuuri’s, smiling when he was just in time to catch the beginning of the fourth movement of [Scheherazade](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQNymNaTr-Y%20).

“Hey,” Yuuri said, opening his eyes and smiling adoringly at Viktor.“Feeling better?”

Viktor nodded, taking his fiancé’s hand.“I’m perfect here with you, Yuura.”

***

Viktor and Yuuri were rudely woken far too early the next morning by banging on their door.

“You get it,” Yuuri groaned, burying his face in Viktor’s chest and pulling the covers up further.

“But I’m not wearing pants,” Viktor replied, clinging to Yuuri and pressing his face into his fiancé’s bedhead.

“Neither am I,” Yuuri whined, but let go of Viktor and got out of bed, getting his pants and a t shirt on the way.He opened the door as Viktor snuggled deeper under the covers and admired the view through half-lidded eyes.“Phichit?” Yuuri said sleepily through a yawn, raking his fingers through his hair.“What are you doing here?”

“Good morning, Yuuri, wonderful to see you too!” Phichit said happily, bouncing on his toes.“Are you and Viktor up yet?”

“Um…” Yuuri said, sounding a little more alert.Phichit stood on his tiptoes, trying to peer into the room and Yuuri, that wonderful angel, blocked his view of Viktor lying in their rumpled bed.

“What are you doing here?” Yuuri asked again, and somehow despite his words he didn’t sound at all hostile, only sleepy and confused.

“I did the same thing that I did during the New York qualifier,” Phichit answered, giving up on trying to catch a glimpse of Viktor.“All of the competitors are meeting up in the hotel lobby at nine to go sight seeing today, since rehearsals don’t start until tomorrow.”

“What time is it?” Yuuri asked.He looked over his shoulder, and Viktor couldn’t help but smile at how cute his fiancé was when he was sleepy.“Vitya, what time is it?”

“Ugh, too early,” Viktor groaned, and then fumbled for his phone.“Um, eight fifteen.”He blinked, and then shut off the [alarm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tr0otuiQuU) that had been going off on his phone.“We missed my alarm, apparently."

“Well, that’s what you get for setting your alarm to the goddamn Moonlight Sonata,” Yuuri grumbled, and then turned back to Phichit.“We’ll be there, Phichit-kun.”

“Great!” Phichit exclaimed.“See you in forty five minutes!Don’t be late, I don’t think Yuri Plisetsky is very patient.”With that he disappeared, possibly to wake up some other poor soul.

Yuuri closed the door and came back to bed, curling into the warm spot Viktor had saved for him.“I’m surprised Phichit convinced Yura to come,” Viktor admitted, pulling Yuuri into his arms.

“Mm,” Yuuri murmured in agreement.He kissed Viktor’s shoulder, and then said, “We should get up, though.I know you take fifteen minutes to do your hair in the mornings.”

“Yuuri, you really think I’m that vain?” Viktor gasped, pretending to be betrayed.

Yuuri laughed.“Alright, maybe ten minutes,” he said.

Viktor sighed contentedly.“Two more minutes,” he said into Yuuri’s hair.“Then we can get up.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmured in exasperation, but his arms around Viktor only tightened.

It was at least five minutes before Yuuri managed to coax Viktor out of bed, but in the end they were actually two minutes early for the meet up in the hotel lobby.Unsurprisingly Phichit was already there, chatting with a smirking JJ Leroy while Yuri Plisetsky scowled down at his phone, clearly trying to pretend like he wasn’t listening.

“Hi!” Viktor exclaimed excitedly, taking Yuuri’s hand as they approached.Yuri looked up and his expression darkened, while Phichit lit up and JJ gave him a polite nod.Viktor noticed Yuri glaring at his and Yuuri’s clasped hands, and Yuuri anxiously let go.Viktor glanced worriedly at him, but didn’t press the issue.Yuuri was already nervous about the competition, and animosity from the other competitors wouldn't help.Viktor was going to have to have a talk with Yuri before things got too far.

“Good to see you again, Viktor,” JJ said, and then his eyes fell on Yuuri and he smiled.“Hey, Katsuki.Didn’t expect to see you here!”

Yuuri waved a little shyly.“Hi, JJ.”

“Do you two know each other?” Viktor asked, looking between the violinist and his fiancé. 

Yuuri gave him an odd look.“We’ve competed against each other before,” he said.“There aren’t _that_ many competitive string players in North America, Vitya.”

“Yuuri just barely squeaked ahead of me in North Americans two years ago,” JJ said with his trademark smirk, clapping Yuuri on the shoulder.

_“Eight points,_ ” Phichit mouthed to Viktor, and raised an eyebrow.Viktor blinked.Eight points out of one hundred was a lot in competition.It was far more than just _squeaking ahead._ “That’s amazing, Yuura!” Viktor gushed, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder.

“So it’s true,” Yuri Plisetsky said, speaking for the first time.“You really are dating that _violist_.”

Viktor tried to stifle a frown at the way Yuri made violist sound like an insult.“Yura!” he squealed instead, throwing his arms around the teenager in a bear hug as revenge.Yuuri gave them an amused look before turning back to his conversation with JJ.

“Get off!” Yuri yelled, stomping on Viktor’s foot and pushing him away, hissing.

“It’s so lovely to see you!” Viktor said with as much exuberance as he could muster, clasping Yuri’s shoulders.“Yuura and I watched the video of your qualifier, you were wonderful!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Yuri grumbled, shrugging him off, but he looked a little pleased.The younger Russian crossed his arms over his chest, and then snapped, “Why are you even here, Nikiforov?This is for _competitors_ only.Shouldn’t you stay back with the other teachers, old man?”

“My teacher isn’t here yet,” Phichit said, materializing at Viktor’s side.“She’s flying in this afternoon.”

“I could call Yakov and invite him along as well!”

“Ugh, don’t,” Yuri said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.“He’s even older than you, which makes him ancient.”Viktor hid his smile behind his hand.Yuri turned his attention to Phichit and said bluntly, “Why is Katsuki dating that idiot?”

Phichit grinned.“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said.

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Are they as gross as they look on Instagram?”

“If by gross you mean cute, then yeah,” Phichit chuckled.

Yuri snorted.“Keep away from me, then,” he said to Viktor.

Viktor gave him a friendly smile that barely concealed a clear threat.“I hope you’re not going to be mean to my Yuura,” he said pointedly.Phichit looked between the two, clearly sensing the sudden tension.

Yuri met Viktor’s gaze, green eyes narrowed behind the strands of blonde hair falling over his face.“It’s you I have an issue with, not your boyfriend,” he said in a calm, level voice.

Viktor’s smile turned slightly smug.“Fiancé, actually,” he corrected, holding up his hand so the ring on his finger was clearly visible.

Yuri snorted.“I pity Katsuki, then,” he said.“He’s stuck with you forever.Poor bastard.”

Viktor smiled.“Thanks, Yuri,” he said, and then his grin widened.“Do you want to be my best man?” Yuri narrowed his eyes, probably trying to figure out if he was serious.

“He can be the flower girl,” Phichit snickered behind his hand, and Yuri turned on him.

“I’m not afraid to punch you!” he shouted, and then his gaze drifted over Phichit’s shoulder.“Vitya, is Yuuri… OK?” he asked in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, suddenly sounding vaguely concerned.

Viktor frowned, and looked over his shoulder.Yuuri was standing a little ways away, still talking to JJ.His hands were clasped in front of him and his chin was lowered, shoulders a little rigid in a way that Viktor knew meant he was uncomfortable.JJ was talking, laughing, gesturing, and as he chuckled at something he had said Yuuri seemed to shrink in on himself a little.Viktor’s eyes narrowed and he made his way towards Yuuri and JJ, Yuri and Phichit at his heels.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got another one,” JJ was saying as Viktor approached.“What do a viola and a lawsuit have in common?”He paused, and then said through a loud guffaw, “Everyone is happier when the case is closed!”He laughed at his own joke, and Yuuri blinked at him, looking upset.Viktor scowled, fists clenching furiously.How dare JJ make fun of his Yuuri?

“How is lightning like a violist's fingers?” JJ asked, getting his breath back and smirking.He waited, and then said when Yuuri didn’t answer, “Neither one strikes in the same place twice!”He doubled over laughing again.

Viktor stepped forward furiously.He would _murder_ JJ for daring to upset his fiancé!

Phichit grabbed one arm, and Yuri Plisetsky the other.“Hey, whoa, deep breath,” Phichit said hurriedly.“I’m pissed too, but you can’t kill him.”

“Why don't violists play hide and seek?” JJ asked.He raised an eyebrow at Yuuri, who had his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes fixed on his shoes, and then finished, “Because no one will look for them!”

“That’s it,” Viktor snarled, but before he could get to JJ tear him limb from limb, Yuuri looked up.

“Hey, JJ,” the violist said in a soft voice, an odd light burning in his eyes.

JJ looked at him in surprise.“What, have you got a good viola joke?” he asked. 

Yuuri met his eyes, and then said firmly, “What’s the difference between a violin and a viola?”

JJ opened his mouth to answer, but Yuuri beat him to it.“There is no difference. The violin just looks a lot smaller because the violinist's head is way bigger,” he replied.JJ blinked, staggered.Viktor gaped at his fiancé, and Yuri and Phichit let go of him in surprise.Yuuri took a step closer, looking at JJ head on.

“Why are viola jokes so short?” he asked, and then said without even waiting for JJ to try to guess, “It’s so violinists can understand them.”He took another step forward, so that he and JJ were face to face.Viktor suddenly recognized the emotion burning in Yuuri’s eyes.It was _anger_.Viktor wasn’t sure if he had ever seen mild-mannered Katsuki Yuuri truly angry.

“Why doesn't anyone ever compliment a violin player?” Yuuri said.“Because everyone knows that the _real_ instruments deserve all the compliments.”

“Damn, Yuuri, you tell him!” Phichit cheered, pumping his fist in the air.Yuuri’s eyes widened and he took a step away from JJ and covered his face with his hands as he realized he had an audience.

“Ah, you heard that?” he mumbled.

Viktor took a step forward, putting an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.“Sorry, Vitya,” Yuuri mumbled, leaning against him.

Viktor glared at JJ, who was watching Yuuri and looking more than a little impressed.“Where did you get those, Katsuki?” he asked.“Did you make those up?”

Yuuri shook his head, uncovering his face.“I have a list on my phone,” he replied.“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to use them, either.”

“Savage!” Phichit crowed in glee, clutching at his chest.“Dammit, Yuuri, since when are you a badass?”

JJ gave Yuuri a smirk.“I’d like to hear more of your list someday,” he said.

Viktor, who couldn’t tell if JJ was flirting with his fiancé or not, made sure his ring was very visible before giving Yuuri a smacking kiss on the cheek."So would I,” he murmured in the violist’s ear.

“I’m sorry, Vitya, I didn’t mean to insult your instrument,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor laughed.“I’m thicker skinned than that, solnyshko,” he said, and then turned and gave JJ a long, contemplative, vaguely threatening look.JJ swallowed.“I’m sure JJ is thick skinned as well, darling, don’t worry,” Viktor added, and JJ was quick to nod.

“Yep, no offense here,” he said cheerfully.“Nothing to worry about, Katsuki.”

“How many violinists does it take to change a light bulb?” Yuuri said unexpectedly, meeting JJ’s gaze again with a small smile playing in the corners of his mouth.

“How many?” Viktor asked.Yuuri looked at him with wide eyes, and said seriously, “Ten. One to change the light bulb and nine to bitch about how they could have done it faster and better.”Viktor covered his mouth as an unexpected bark of laughter burst forth.

“No, that’s not right,” Yuri Plisetsky said, shaking his head.“It’s ten, but with one to change the light bulb and nine to rotate the chair they're standing on.”

Phichit chuckled.“Hey, What is the difference between a clarinet and an onion?Nobody cries when you chop an clarinet into little pieces.”

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Did you hear about the clarinetist who played in tune?”

“Me?” Phichit asked, pressing a hand to his face and puffing out his chest.

“I’ve never heard of one,” Yuuri replied.Viktor cracked up at the righteously indignant expression on Phichit’s face.

“What’s so funny?”

Viktor turned, still laughing, to see Christophe Giacometti approaching them with a friendly, slightly flirtatious smile. “Hey, Chris,” Phichit said with a wave.“What’s the difference between the first and last stand in a cello section?”

Christophe blinked.

“Half a measure and a semi-tone,” Phichit said, and then started giggling.

Christophe raised an eyebrow, looking more baffled than insulted.“I feel like I’m missing something,” he said, and then winked at Viktor.“Care to fill me in?”

“We’re telling orchestra jokes,” Viktor told him happily, and then kissed Yuuri on the top of the head.“Yuura and JJ started it.”

Christophe gave Yuuri and Viktor a critical look, and then smiled.“I’d share some of my own,” he said, and then glanced significantly at Yuri.“But I don’t think they’re really _appropriate_ for present company.”

“Now we’re just waiting on Otabek,” Phichit said, smoothly changing the subject before Yuri could tear Christophe’s head off.

“He just texted me, he’s on his way down,” Yuri said, glancing at his phone.Viktor smiled.He was glad that Yuri and Otabek were still friends after all these years, that Yuri had someone a bit closer to his age than his grandfather, his violin teacher, and a 28 year old violin prodigy to talk to.

“I’m surprised you convinced Altin to come,” JJ commented, speaking to Phichit.

Phichit grinned.“I just told him Yuri would be here,” he replied.

JJopened his mouth to comment, but before he could say anything the elevator doors at the other end of the lobby slid open and Otabek Altin stepped out, hands tucked in his pockets and a cool expression on his face.He caught sight of the group of musicians standing in the lobby and made his way towards them.

“Good morning,” he said when he was within earshot.

“Beka, what’s the difference between an oboist and God?” Yuri said instead of a normal greeting.

Otabek raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.“Nice to see you too, Yura,” he said dryly.

“God doesn’t think he’s an oboist,” Yuri replied, finishing his joke.

Otabek squinted at him.“I can’t tell if you’re trying to be funny or not,” he said.

Yuri crossed his arms.“Obviously, I’m trying to be insulting, do you even know me?” he said, not coming off as very irritated.

Otabek turned his attention to the others and offered them a solemn nod.

“Well, now that we’re all here, we can go sight seeing,” Phichit said happily.He slung one arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and the other around Yuri’s, who made a sound of discontent but surprisingly didn’t try to punch Phichit.“Where should we go?” the Thai man asked.

“What about La Sagrada Família?” Viktor suggested.“Or Parc Güell?Boqueria Market?”He noticed Yuuri’s questioning glance and smiled.“I did some research before we left New York,” he explained.

“Those all sound fun!” Phichit exclaimed.He was clearly the ringleader of the operation, and so the others agreed when he said, “I think the Sagrada Família is closest to here.Shall we?”

Viktor smiled down at Yuuri as the seven musicians made their way out of the hotel and onto the street.“How are we doing, lyubov moya?”

Yuuri smiled back, taking Viktor’s hand and lacing their fingers together.Viktor smiled as he felt the cool of Yuuri’s engagement ring against his palm.“I think _we’re_ doing pretty good,” Yuuri replied teasingly, standing on his tip toes to kiss Viktor on the temple.

“Jet lag?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri shook his head.

“Not really, no,” he said thoughtfully.“We went to bed at a reasonable hour last night, and I slept surprisingly well.Why, are you jet lagged?”

“Nope,” Viktor said happily, swinging their hands. Behind them, Yuri made a gagging sound and mumbled something about “gross couples being gross.”Viktor thought he heard a rumbling laugh from Otabek, but it might have been his imagination.

“So does anyone speak Spanish?” Phichit asked, walking backwards so that he could see the others.Viktor shook his head, and at his side Yuuri did the same.

“Never learned,” Christophe said, and JJ murmured in agreement.

“Why the fuck would I speak Spanish?” Yuri muttered.

“I speak some Spanish,” Otabek said expressionlessly after a long moment, and Yuri looked at him in surprise.

“Really?”Otabek shrugged.

“Awesome, you’re our translator,” Phichit said as they stopped at the end of the first block.“Which way do we go?”

“Let me find a map,” Otabek replied, pulling out his phone as Yuri looked over his shoulder with interest.

It didn’t take him long, and before Viktor knew it they were on their way again, this time with Yuri and Otabek leading the way.At some point Phichit snapped up Yuuri to take selfies, giggling and chattering all the while as Yuuri smiled fondly at his best friend.

Christophe fell into step with Viktor as he walked at the back of the group, keeping a semi-responsible eye on everyone as the oldest adult and also shamelessly admiring Yuuri from the back.“I’ll admit, I never expected to see you really settling down,” Christophe said thoughtfully after a little while, gazing at Viktor with an odd expression in his eyes.

Viktor smiled.He and Christophe had known each other for a long time.They were close enough that there had been plenty of rumors pre-Yuuri that the two were in a secret relationship, although that had never been on the table.Other than Yuri, Christophe was one of the few people Viktor might consider a friend, even if he wasn’t sure if Chris saw him the same way, seeing as they only saw each other a few times a year.But regardless, Christophe knew him well enough to be familiar with Viktor’s elaborate “playboy” persona, a persona he had quickly abandoned after meeting his Yuuri.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t either, a year ago,” Viktor replied with a laugh.He absently fiddled with his ring, spinning it around his finger, and smiled dopily at Yuuri’s back as his fiancé took a picture of Phichit sticking his tongue out in front of a shop.“Best choice I ever made,” he sighed happily.

Chris grinned.“When’s the wedding?” he asked.

Viktor held his ring out in front of himself and beamed at it.“We haven’t picked an exact date,” he admitted.“I only proposed a week ago.”

“Details?” Chris asked.

Viktor just shrugged.It wasn’t as if his proposal to Yuuri was a secret.It wasn’t.But there was something special about it, something delicate and precious, and private, than Viktor didn’t know if he wanted to share.It seemed like the sort of thing that was meant to be just for _them_.

Luckily Christophe seemed to understand, and he just smiled.“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said simply, and then his gaze sharpened.“And Masumi and I expect invitations to the wedding.”

Viktor laughed.“Of course.”

“Vitya?”Viktor looked up to see Yuuri beaming at him, cheeks a little flushed with exertion from the fast pace, holding out a hand.

“Yuura, solnyshko,” Viktor cooed, taking his fiancé’s hand and pulling him closer for a quick peck on the lips.Chris smiled, and walked a little ahead to talk to Phichit.

Yuuri blushed, giggling.“Do you see it?” he asked, and pointed at the church looming ahead.“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Viktor smiled at him.“I do see something beautiful,” he agreed.

Yuuri looked around the city, eyes shining.“I really like it here, Vitya,” he said.

“We could come back as part of our honeymoon,” Viktor suggested, nuzzling Yuuri’s cheek.

Yuuri laughed.“Part of?”

“Of course, solnyshko, we can’t just go to _one_ city!” Viktor gasped, scandalized.Yuuri laughed again, the sound bright and happy.Viktor couldn’t stop smiling as he let Yuuri pull him towards the others and further into the city. 

***

The group spent about three hours sight seeing before getting a table in a small, cozy tapas restaurant for lunch.

“You know, this is pretty early for lunch in Spain,” Viktor said as they sat at their table, holding Yuuri’s hand.“They eat at different times than in the US.”

“Mm, I’m too hungry to care,” Yuuri said with a laugh, trying to decipher the menu in front of him.Viktor was trying to help, using his knowledge of French, but whether or not they were successful was still up in the air.

One on side of them Yuri and JJ had somehow gotten into an argument about something related to music theory, with Otabek occasionally interjecting when he had a point to make.On their other side, Christophe and Phichit were apparently trading embarrassing Viktor stories.

Yuuri and Viktor didn’t talk much as their food was brought and the chatter of multiple conversations was interspersed with the clink of silverware on plates, but their hands stayed linked and Viktor never stopped squeezing Yuuri’s fingers or toying with his ring or stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.They didn’t talk much, but they didn’t need to.Viktor was deliriously happy as things were, and he knew Yuuri was the same.

It wasn’t until they were in the process of paying the bill that JJ leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “There are reporters outside the restaurant.”

That caught everyone’s attention.

“What?” Yuri said with a scowl.Viktor glanced over his shoulder to see three people gathered outside the restaurant, peering in.One of them definitely had a camera.

JJ made eye contact with Viktor, and said seriously, “We can distract them if you and Katsuki want to slip away.”

Viktor blinked.“Really?”

JJ shrugged.“You’re the most famous of all of us, as much as I wish I could say that about myself,” he admitted, and then gestured to Yuuri.“And I know the press makes Katsuki uncomfortable.”

Viktor blinked again.“You do?”

JJ rolled his eyes.“We’ve competed against each other, remember?”

“Right,” Viktor said with a slow nod.

“Can we?” Yuuri said, sounding like he was trying to hide his hope.

“Of course, solnyshko,” Viktor replied, squeezing Yuuri’s hand.

“I bet I can get them all to follow my Instagram,” Phichit said with a confident smile.

“You owe me, Nikiforov,” Yuri grumbled, but moved his chair slightly to obstruct the view of Yuuri from the window.Yuuri and Viktor both got up.“Thank you,” Yuuri said.JJ gave him a mock salute.

"See you later, Yuuri,” Christophe said with a wink.Otabek nodded, Phichit blew them a kiss, and Yuri made a rude gesture in Viktor’s general direction.

Yuuri and Viktor found the back door to the restaurant and left, giggling all the while.The walked fast without looking back for a few blocks before slowing.“Where do you want to go?” Viktor asked a bit breathlessly, beaming at Yuuri and taking both of his hands.

“Maybe the oceanfront?” Yuuri suggested shyly.He looked up at Viktor through his eyelashes, cheeks pink and hair a little disheveled, and Viktor was struck suddenly by how goddamn _much_ he loved this man.“Anything you want, solnyshko,” Viktor breathed, and walked hand in hand at a leisurely pace to the shore.

They stopped at the seawall and stood in silence, just leaning against each other and drinking in the scene.“The seagulls remind me of St. Petersburg,” Viktor murmured, looking up at the gulls crying up above.

He looked down at Yuuri.“Do they remind you of home?”

“They remind me of Hasetsu,” Yuuri said, and then met Viktor’s eyes lovingly.“But my home is where you are.”

Viktor’s eyes widened, and his heart swelled.“I love you,” he said, and then leaned in and gently kissed his wonderful, lovely Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to chill the fuck out with these cliche af endings, I stg...
> 
> I, too, have a list on my phone of jokes for people like JJ :) But in all seriousness, the jokes about different instruments are all in good fun. I respect all musicians, and I definitely don't mean to offend anyone, so if you are... sorry? Credit where credit is due, I came up with literally none of them. Jokes can be found [here](http://www.jokes4us.com/miscellaneousjokes/musicjokes/clarinetjokes.html%20), [here](http://suewidemark.com/violinjokes.htm%20), [here](https://www.8notes.com/jokes/violin/%20), [here](https://www.thestrad.com/violin-jokes-whos-laughing-now/5869.article%20), [here](http://www.jokes4us.com/miscellaneousjokes/musicjokes/violinjokes.html%20), [here](http://www.mit.edu/~jcb/jokes/viola.html%20), [here](http://www.cello.org/heaven/silly/jokes.htm%20), and [here](http://www.jokes4us.com/miscellaneousjokes/musicjokes/oboejokes.html%20)
> 
> I also wrote another one shot for this universe, which can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279114)
> 
> I'll be back with Chapter 18 on Monday the 16th or thereabouts. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a brilliant day, dear reader!


	18. Can't Stop Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the ICC finals begin, and as records are broken, dreams shatter too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't know why I set deadlines. I suck at deadlines because I am an A++ procrastinator. Hence why this chapter, while not as late as a few weeks ago, is still late. You should just ignore when I say silly things like an exact date of publication... 
> 
> Anyway, legitimate plot (I... think?) in this chapter! I don't know, I write so much gratuitous fluff that I can't even tell anymore. But... yeah. There's a lot of "technical" (a term I use VERY lightly) jargon in this chapter, so if the scoring system is confusing please let me know. Without further ado, competition part one! Enjoy!
> 
> (Yes, the chapter title is a blatant reference to the theme song because I have no creativity or autonomy. I'll show myself out.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuri Plisetsky very seriously considered murder when he was woken up far too early the second morning in Barcelona by someone banging on his door.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he shouted, and buried under his pillow.Someone banged on the wall to his left, and he heard a muffled yell to be quiet.Yuri made a rude gesture at the wall, behind which he knew lay Yakov, and then pulled the comforter tightly around his body.

Yuri closed his eyes again, until the person outside his door tentatively called, “Yuri?”

Yuri took a long, slow breath, beat back his inclination towards murderous rage, and then got out of bed.He took a moment to gather the comforter around himself before shuffling towards the door, blankets draped around him like a cloak.Yuri opened the door, squinting at the sudden bright light of the hotel hallway.

“Um, hi,” Katsuki Yuuri said nervously, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Yuri blinked at him.“What?”

Yuuri shuffled his feet nervously, and then said, “Did I wake you up, Yuri?”

Yuri scowled.“Of course you did, it’s the ass-crack of dawn!” he snapped.

Yuuri stared at him.“Yuri, it’s ten in the morning,” he said in confusion.

“Ass-crack.Of dawn,” Yuri reiterated.

Yuuri shook his head slightly, as if to focus himself.“Um.OK.If you say so.”He cleared his throat awkwardly, and then said in a rush, “Phichit and I are going to practice our pieces and then score each other.Viktor’s going to be there too.Do you want to come?”

“Why?” Yuri asked crabbily.

Yuuri absently ran his fingers through his hair.“Um, Viktor thought you might be interested in coming, but if you don’t want to it’s-”

“No, I mean, why are you scoring each other?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.“Oh!” he exclaimed, and then smiled.“We thought it would be nice to get an idea of where we are before the actual competition.”

Yuri squinted at him.“Wait here,” he said.“Let me get dressed.”

He slammed the door in a surprised-looking Yuuri’s face, and then leaned his forehead against it with a sigh.As much as he was loath to get up this early (Ten AM!Ridiculous!), Katsuki had a good point.Yuri honestly had no idea how much his piece had improved since his qualifier.He had squeaked into the competition with an 87.4%, and the only reason he was above Christophe Giacometti (who had scored an 86.91%) was because the cellist had reportedly had a “wild night” the night before the competition and was tired.Yuri gagged and pushed that thought away.He would have to concentrate, practice, _push himself_ , if he wanted to win.JJ Leroy, as insanely irritating as he was, consistently scored around a 94%.Yuri would practically have to sell his soul to beat a score like that, in comparison to his qualifier score.Maybe he had improved.It would be nice to have a more accurate baseline, so he would know how to move forward and improve his performance.

Yuri dropped his blankets on the bed with a scowl, shivering a little in his thin sleep shirt despite the fact that it was May and they were on the shore of the Balearic Sea, and rummaged in his suitcase for clothes.It took him about five minutes to get dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and his favorite cat-ear hoodie, pull the front half of his hair into a ponytail so it was out of his eyes, and text Yakov his plans.Yuri snagged his violin from its place in the closet, and then stuffed his phone in his pocket and opened the door again.

Katsuki was leaning against the wall next to his door, scrolling through something on his phone, and he glanced up and offered Yuri a smile when he emerged.“That was fast,” he commented.

Yuri scowled.“Yeah, whatever,” he said.“Where are we going?”

Maybe it was Yuri’s imagination, but Yuuri seemed to be blushing when he admitted, “Vitya got the two of us a larger room than the standard ones, so there’s plenty of room to play.”

“Fine, works for me,” Yuri said dismissively, waving a hand.“What room?”

“We’re up a few floors,” Yuuri replied a little nervously.

Yuri squinted at him, and then rolled his eyes.“Let me guess.Viktor got you two the penthouse suite, didn’t he?”

Yuuri went a little red.“Um, n-not the penthouse, but it’s on the same floor,” he stammered.

Yuri snorted.“Typical,” he said, and then gave Yuuri a long look as they started down the hall in the direction of the elevators.“Did he tell you?”

Yuuri pulled a face.“He said he would take care of the hotel reservations if I booked the plane tickets,” he replied.“Honestly, I’m just lucky I talked him out of first class international tickets.”

“And you still want to marry him?” Yuri said doubtfully.

Yuuri got a dumb, moony look on his face, and sighed wistfully.“Vitya can be ridiculous, but I love him.”

Yuri faked a retching noise.“Gah, disgusting.Keep it for your dumb fiancé, loser.”

They stopped in front of the elevators, and Yuri studied Yuuri out of the corner of his eye as he reached out and poked the button.The man seemed surprisingly laid back at the moment, in contrast to some of the rumors Yuri had heard and some of the conclusions he had drawn based on their limited interactions and what he could glean from Phichit’s and Viktor’s social media.

“Are you and Otabek dating?” Yuuri asked unexpectedly, and Yuri’s eyes widened.

“What?No!” he exclaimed.

Yuuri gave him a surprised look.“I’m sorry for assuming.You seemed very comfortable and familiar with him, more familiar than I’ve seen you with anyone else so far.”

Yuri gave Yuuri a hard look.“We’re _just_ friends.Jeez.You’re worse than Viktor.”

Yuuri chuckled.“Why, has he tried to insert himself into your romantic life?”

“Ew, god, don’t say it like that, it sounds weird,” Yuri said, wrinkling his nose.He jammed his finger repeatedly into the button next to the elevator again.Why couldn’t it come and rescue him from this horrible conversation?“Viktor’s nosy, alright?” he muttered resentfully.“I’m sixteen, for fuck’s sake.I don’t need _his_ help.”

Yuuri covered his mouth with his hand, and Yuri suspected he was being laughed at.

Yuri scowled, but before he could say anything the door to one of the rooms behind them opened, and Otabek said, “Yura?”

Yuri turned abruptly, a hot flush on his face as Yuuri’s awkward, embarrassing question rang in his head.“Beka!” he exclaimed.“Why are you up so early?”

Otabek gave him a long look, and then raised an eyebrow slightly.“Yura, it’s after ten,” he said.“I’ve been up for hours.”He squinted a little.“I’m surprised you’re up.”

“I’m going to practice,” Yuri explained, holding up his violin a little.He lifted his chin.“Some of the other competitors are going to be performing and then scoring each other.Do you want to come?”

“Is that OK with Yuuri?” Otabek asked, switching to English for Yuuri’s sake, and glancing at the Japanese man.

Behind them, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.Yuuri quickly stuck his arm in front of the door to hold it open and then smiled tentatively at Otabek.“You’re welcome to come if you like, I assume Yuri explained what he’s doing?” he said.

Otabek nodded.“Let me get my oboe,” he said, and then disappeared for a moment before returning with his oboe case in hand and his jacket over his shoulder.The Kazakh closed his hotel room door, and then followed Yuri and Yuuri into the elevator.

“Where are we going?” he asked as Yuuri fumbled to find the right button on the expansive panel.

“It’s Viktor Nikiforov, he practically reserved the fucking honeymoon suite for two fucking people,” Yuri scoffed in Russian, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised,” Otabek replied mildly.“Like you said, it’s Viktor.”

Yuri turned to Yuuri, who was awkwardly studying the ceiling as his companions conversed in a language he presumably didn’t know.“Is Viktor super extra in New York as well?” Yuri asked, stuffing his free hand in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

Yuuri considered that with a genuinely thoughtful expression, as if he had to think about the answer.“Not all the time,” he replied after a moment.“He’s very serious about music, although I’m sure you already know that.And he can be serious when the occasion calls for it.But most of the time otherwise, he is fairly exuberant, yes.He’s more… what did you call it?Extra?He’s more extra than I expected he would be.”

“The thing is, though,” Otabek said quietly, “He’s different around you, Katsuki.I’ll admit I don’t know him as well as you or Yura, but from what I can tell he has expensive tastes but keeps himself distant.Well, kept.Like I said, he’s different.”

“He’s in love or some shit, and it’s making him fucking disgusting,” Yuri muttered, and glared at the elevator doors.“For fuck’s sake, are we going to the 600th floor?Why is this taking so long?”

“S-sorry,” Yuuri stammered, just as the elevator came to a gentle stop and the doors slid open with a soft chime.There were only a few doors in the hallway, implying the size of each room.“This one,” Yuuri said quietly, still a little flushed, and led them to the door at the end of the hall, pulling a key card out of his back pocket.He let them into the room, which was probably at least three times the size of Yuri’s small single room, and closed the door behind them.

“Hey, guys,” Phichit said cheerfully, jumping up from where he had been settled in a comfortable chair in the corner of the room, predictably on his phone.

Christophe gracefully swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, grinning slyly.“I see you brought a friend, little Yuri,” he said.

“What’s he doing here?” Yuri snapped, squinting at Christophe.“Where’s your dumb fiancé, Katsuki?”

“He’s on the phone ordering room service,” Phichit said in a stage whisper, glancing over to an area of the room hidden by a half wall, where Viktor was presumably on the phone.

Sure enough, the man poked his head around the corner a moment later, gave Yuuri a brilliant smile, and then said to the rest of them, “Do you want anything from room service, solnyshko?Yura?Otabek?”

Otabek shook his head.“I already ate,” he declined politely.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Vitya,” Yuuri said sweetly, and Viktor’s eyes practically turned into hearts.

“I want four chocolate chip muffins,” Yuri snapped, stepping in front of Katsuki.“And if they don’t have them, tell the kitchen to make them!”

Viktor just laughed.“Alright, Yura, if that’s what you want,” he said, and disappeared again, speaking softly.

“Come in,” Yuuri said a little shyly, becoming them further into the room.

“You didn’t answer my first question,” Yuri barked, giving Christophe a wary look as he set his violin case down along the wall.He was well aware of the older man’s penchant for dirty jokes, and that was _not_ something he wanted to hear at ten in the morning.

“Viktor invited me to play,” Christophe said, running his fingers through his hair and gesturing to the cello case leaned up against the wall by a wide window with the shades thrown open.“The same reason as you.”

Yuri glanced around the room.Between himself, Beka, Christophe, Phichit, and Yuuri, five of the six competitors were there to practice.“What about JJ?” he blurted without thinking, and then internally kicked himself.

Phichit giggled.“Yuri, that’s nice of you, you don’t want him to feel left out?”

“I don’t care if he feels fucking left out!” Yuri barked, fists clenching.“I just want to make fun of his playing!”

“I texted JJ earlier, actually,” Yuuri said quietly, crossing the room and pulling his viola case out of the closet.“He said he was going sightseeing with his fiancé since he doesn’t have rehearsal with the orchestra until tomorrow.Don’t worry, Yuri, he knew Viktor and I were planning this, he’s not left out.”

“I wasn’t worried!” Yuri insisted.

Otabek patted him sympathetically on the shoulder and then set his oboe case on the small table by the door.“Who has the noon rehearsal slot today?” he asked.

“I do,” Yuri grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.He had wanted to be the day right before the competition, not the very first slot.

“I’m at two,” Phichit offered, raising a finger.

“And I’m at six tonight,” Yuuri offered.“Maybe we should do it in order of rehearsals, then.Just in case we go long and Yuri has to leave early.”

“Sounds good!” Phichit chirped.“I’ll wait to eat until I’ve played, then, if I’m going second.”

Yuri heard Viktor hang up the phone, and then the violinist bounded around the corner and swept Yuuri into a hug.“Yuura!” he cried happily, and planted a big kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.“I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you properly when you arrived!”

Yuuri went red, and patted Viktor’s shoulder, the most he could do in Viktor’s tight embrace.“It’s alright, Vitya,” he said.

Yuri’s eyes flicked to the others in the room, to see if they were as grossed out and disgusted as he was by Viktor’s over-the-top affection.Because he _definitely_ wasn’t jealous of the affection.It didn’t warm his heart a little to see Viktor happy.Absolutely _not_.Christophe was watching Yuuri and Viktor together with a small, fond smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest, and Otabek, while expressionless, didn’t seem to be disgusted either.Phichit was trying to film them on his phone while laughing hysterically.

“Vitya,” Yuuri said, his voice a little more firm, and Viktor let go.

“I’ll get notebooks,” he said happily, and practically skipped back into the main part of the room in the direction of his suitcase.

“Fuck, why is he so goddamn happy today?” Yuri mumbled, scowling.

“I bet _I_ know why,” Christophe said with a lascivious smirk.

Yuri immediately clapped his hands over his ears, and edged away from the bed.“Gross!”

“I’m just looking forward to the competition,” Viktor said cheerfully, digging a few small pocket notebooks out of his carryon.

“Yeah, that makes one of us,” Yuuri murmured, sitting down on the bed and setting his viola case between his feet.

Viktor dropped a kiss on the top of his head as he walked past.“Darling, you’re going to do fantastically,” he said, handing Christophe a notebook.

Yuri stared blankly down at the small, cheap, spiral-bound notebook that Viktor handed him on his way past.“What the fuck is this?” he asked, and then looked up at Viktor.“Why do you even _have_ these?”

Viktor smiled at him.“I find them useful for writing down the names of songs I hear and like,” he said, and then tapped the side of his nose with one long finger.“You know I’m forgetful, don’t you?”

Yuri snorted.“That’s an understatement.”He stuffed the notebook in his back pocket for the time being, since he would need both hands to play.Yuri dragged his violin case away from the wall, and then knelt in front of it.

“So does everyone here know how to score?” Viktor asked when he was finished passing out his little notebooks.He had exactly six.It was creepy.

“ Go over it again?” Phichit asked hopefully, sitting forward in his chair.Yuri resolved to mostly tune him out as he got in the right mindset to perform.He had studied how pieces in the ICC were scored extensively, he was sure he could handle it.

“Of course,” Viktor said amiably, sitting down just a smidgen too close to Katsuki on the bed.Yuuri didn’t scoot away, but instead leaned into his fiancé’s side. _Gross._ “Of course, we haven’t been trained,” Viktor said, crossing his legs at the ankle and sliding an arm around Yuuri’s waist.“And we don’t have the full evaluation of the piece, or a musical score to follow.This is just an approximation.Yura, do you know what your piece was evaluated at?”

Yuri shrugged."I don’t know, somewhere around 230?” he guessed.

“Right, of course,” Viktor said, and then launched into a long, technical explanation about point deductions and subjective scoring standards and redemption values.Yuuri nodded occasionally as Viktor explained, looking interested.Christophe looked bored, Otabek looked vaguely intrigued.Phichit looked like he was trying to keep his eyes from crossing under the onslaught of information.

Yuri gently lifted his violin out of its case and ran his fingers of the strings, checked the pegs to make sure none were loose, and then strummed a gentle G-minor chord.

“Oh, Yura, are you ready?” Viktor asked with a smile, hearing the sound.

“Let me tune,” Yuri grunted, and fiddled with the peg of his D string for a moment before looking up.“Alright, I’m ready.” Yuuri smiled encouragingly.

Yuri lifted his violin to his shoulder, and inhaled slowly.He was just playing for the other musicians, the other qualifiers.Three of whom he had actually scored higher than to get into the finals.There was no reason why his heart rate had sped up, or why his chest felt tight.

Yuri exhaled, and played the first trembling[ notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEbyyqyKtM0&feature=youtu.be), ridiculously nervous until he was able to slip into the piece and really _play_.He let his eyes flutter closed as he played, wincing slightly as he hit a high note slightly flat.He shook the mistake off and let the notes connect fluidly to one another, adding a few artistic glissandos in the heat of the moment, climbing higher and higher as his dynamic grew before dropping again with more aggressive bow strokes.

Yuri held his breath as he played a series of difficult double stops before practically tiptoeing into another high section.He slurred up and down, gradually climbing higher as the music built to one of the smaller climaxes of the movement.He could almost hear the imaginary orchestra at his back, hitting chords and beats as he bowed, coming up to another smaller musical peak before hitting a longer series of fast notes high up on the fingerboard.

The next mistake Yuri made was on a passage where he had to slur double stops and glissandos up and down the strings, and he hit his highest note just a little off pitch in his panic to make it sound right.Yuri flinched, fingers slipping a little, and then pulled himself back into the music just in time to hit a fast set of double stop glissandos down the A and D strings that led into another swooping, curling set of slurs and double stops climbing higher and higher again.This was a part he would be playing by himself tomorrow, completely without orchestral accompaniment.  Yuri let himself hold a trill for a little longer than was perhaps necessary as he imagined a flute coming in behind him, accompanying him as a few other instruments came in after.  He played a slightly different version of the main melody of the movement followed by an achingly familiar pattern of slurs and sixteenths up the fingerboard that spiraled down just to rise again before he slowed to longer, lower, more languorous notes.

Yuri felt his heart speed up again as he thundered into the final bars of the piece, fingers flying over the strings, making a concentrated effort to his every fast note and slur perfectly, emoting more than usual as he sped into the last chords.

Yuri paused dramatically before the last note and drew it out, imagining the sound of horns, winds, and strings behind him before finally taking his bow off the string.His small audience immediately burst into applause, slightly muffled by the notebooks they were holding.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yuri said dismissively, lowering his violin and glaring at them.“What did I score?”

“Hold on,” Viktor said.“Let me average it.”

Yuri waited impatiently, tapping one foot on the ground as he held the neck of his violin in a veritable stranglehold, as Viktor collected everyone’s notebooks and started to scribble numbers.“Well,” Viktor said finally.

“What is it?” Yuri said, unable to keep the raw excitement from his voice.

Viktor looked up, eyebrows raised.“Christophe, my dear friend, this is simple subtraction,” he said instead of just _telling_ Yuri his goddamn score.“I know we agreed to do it out of 100 points instead of his evaluated score, but a 50 TPS minus the 5.62 deduction for technicality faults definitely isn’t 45/50 for technical.”

“I was rounding,” Christophe said dismissively, waving a hand.“Cut the kid some slack, Viktor.”

Viktor sighed quietly.“With scores like this, _you_ can’t afford to cut him any slack,” he muttered.

“What’s my score?” Yuri yelled, giving in to his impatience.

Viktor blinked up at him.“Yuri, I don’t trust my mental math enough to average five scores to the thousandth’s place,” he said mildly, and then turned to Yuuri.“Solnyshko, can I borrow the calculator on your phone?” Wordlessly, Yuuri handed Viktor his phone with a smile, and Yuri decided not to think about how obvious it was that they had each other’s fingerprints in their phones when Viktor unlocked Yuuri’s phone without an issue.

Viktor stacked the notebooks on his lap as the others waited, and muttered numbers under his breath as he tapped numbers into the phone, checking the papers on his lap once in a while as Yuuri looked over his shoulder.“Holy fuck, if the judges are as slow as you the calculations are going to be as long as the performance,” Yuri mumbled resentfully, kicking at the expensive-looking carpet under his combat boots.

“Well, to be fair, we were just keeping a running tally of deductions with a SPS sort of pulled out of the air,” Phichit said, throwing his legs over the arm of his chair and settling in.“The judges keep track on tablets or something, so the score is constantly recalculated as deductions are made and subjective judgements are added.”

“Mistype, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured, leaning his head against Viktor’s shoulder and gesturing to the calculator.

“It’s your fault, for being so cute,” Viktor said absently, and tapped at the phone again before looking up at Yuri.“You final averaged score is 91.23% out of 100%,” he said without pomp.“Of course in competition it will be an average of four scores with the highest and lowest taken out, and you’ll be judged by professionals, but-”

“Is it enough?” Yuri asked.“Is 91.23% enough to win?”

Viktor sighed quietly.“I’m not sure,” he admitted.“JJ scored a 93.87% in his qualifier.And what were you, Otabek?”

“90.65%,” Otabek replied.He grimaced, and said almost apologetically, "But I know I can play better than that.It was an off day.”

Yuri scowled.“So all I have to do is get a better score than the Canadian,” he said.“Easy.He must have been lucky in the qualifier.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Yuuri said quietly.He pulled his legs up on the bed and settled himself crosslegged, still leaning annoyingly into Viktor’s side, and then continued, “These days, JJ consistently scores around 93%.He doesn’t usually go higher than that, but he’s steady.He hasn’t had a serious dip in scores in a few years.”

“So I need to be better,” Yuri said determinedly.“No problem.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“Fingers,” he said, holding out a hand.Yuri glared at him, and then let Viktor examine the fingertips of his left hand.The older violinist stared at them, and then made a thoughtful sound.

“Not as bad as I expected,” he said.

Yuri stuffed his hand in his pocket.“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Viktor gave him a patient look.“You _do_ know I still talk regularly to Yakov,” he said.“He’s complained all about your over practicing problem to me.In gory detail.”He shuddered.“I did _not_ need to know about how you needed to get a new A string because you practiced so much that your fingers started bleeding and the string got stained.”

“That’s an exaggeration!” Yuri shouted.It was not an exaggeration, but before he could get into an argument there was a knock at the door.“Fucking finally,” Yuri snapped, and stalked over to answer the door, setting his violin down on the table as he passed.“Viktor, where’s your wallet?” he shouted, staring down the poor, hapless hotel employee who had brought their food from room service.“They’ll just put it on the bill, Yura,” Viktor replied with a smile.

Yuri turned his attention back to the employee, who gave him a weak smile.“Here you go-”

“Thanks,” Yuri interrupted sullenly, taking the food.“What now?”

"Enjoy, sir," the employee said, smiling, and Yuri nodded before closing the door.He picked up a muffin and savagely bit into it, eating half of it in one bite.With his free hand, he noisily dragged a chair across the room to sit next to Otabek, and then plopped down.

“Do you mind if we eat?” Yuuri said nervously, looking to Phichit and Otabek.

Otabek gestured for him to go ahead, and Phichit said, “I ate a little earlier.I’ll wait until after I play to eat.”

Yuuri stood and got his and Viktor’s plates.“Here, Vitya,” he said softly, offering Viktor a plate of what looked like it might be pancakes.

“You’re so sweet, my darling,” Viktor said with a happy smile.Yuri pretended to retch.  Definitely not to hide a smile.

The five musicians sat in relative silence as Viktor and Yuuri ate and Yuri scarfed down his muffins, and then Yuri broke the silence to ask, “Do you have any more critiques for my playing, or what?”He swallowed his bite of muffin.

"The beginning was a bit shaky," Viktor said unabashedly, lacing his fingers together and smiling beatifically at Yuri."But it was decent."

"I need to be more than _decent_ ," Yuri growled."Just decent isn't enough to win."

Yuuri cradled his chin in his hands, leaning forward a little."I know we play different instruments," he said quietly."And obviously you're a better violinist than me."

"Obviously," Yuri snorted.For the most part, Yuuri ignored him.

"Maybe shift in a different place during that part in the middle, where you're going to fourth on your second finger?" Yuuri suggested tentatively, and despite how vague that was Yuri knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Yeah, whatever, fine," Yuri said after considering that for a long moment."I guess that could work."He slumped back in his chair, and glanced sideways at Beka.The Kazakh boy raised an eyebrow at him.Yuri wordlessly offered him a muffin, which his friend wordlessly declined.Yuri shrugged, and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.Otabek rolled his eyes almost imperceptibly.

"I guess that means I'm next!" Phichit said cheerfully, jumping up.He picked up his clarinet case from the side of the room and deftly opened it, quickly putting it together and playing through a quick, airy, woody scale."I'm ready, score me!" Phichit said cheerfully when he was finished, and settled himself standing in front of the other five.

Yuri grudgingly pulled the tiny notebook Viktor had given him out of his pocket, and dug for a writing utensil before finding a pen deep in the pocket of his jacket. Phichit gave them all a wide smile, which Yuuri happily returned, and then put his mouthpiece between his lips and started to[ play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GnJBLwOjFo) his piece.

Yuri slumped down further, pen poised and ready to write down deductions, but he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe his win wouldn't be as easy as he had assumed it would be.

***

Yuri felt like he was going to throw up.That was not an exaggeration.“I don’t feel well,” he whispered to Otabek, sitting next to him.

His friend glanced at him in concern."What do you mean?" he whispered.

Yuri closed his eyes, clutched the neck of his violin.All of the competitors were already in the concert hall for the first part of the competition, an audience that Yuri was studiously ignoring seated behind them.It was the largest audience Yuri had ever performed for.JJ was going to go onstage momentarily.Now was not the time to be nervous.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," Yuri whispered against his better judgement.

Otabek studied him carefully, and gave him a long, serious look."Yura," he said in a soft voice, too quiet for anyone else to hear."You're going to do fine.You're going to do wonderfully.I'm looking forward to your performance."Yuri took a long breath just as the house lights flickered, warning everyone to get to their seats. 

"Do you want me to find Yakov?" Otabek whispered, one hand still braced on Yuri's shoulder.

"No, Beka, no," Yuri said quickly."You have to go on after JJ."

For whatever reason the ICC had them in order of scores in the qualifiers from highest to lowest, rather than random slots.Otabek was second, and Yuri was third, right before Christophe.

The house lights turned down low, and the orchestra on stage quieted before the applause started and JJ walked onstage with a smirk on his lips."I'm going to beat him," Yuri whispered, even as his stomach lurched at the thought of going up on that stage.

The announcer introduced JJ and his piece, and then the audience grew quiet.Yuri imagined he heard the absolute silence of death the second before JJ started playing, the frozen moment in time that kept everyone motionless, soundless, breathless.And then the orchestra onstage burst into motion and the[ music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HlqDkv1PzE%20) began, weaving around them.

There was no denying that JJ was good.He was.As obnoxious as Yuri thought he was, the other violinist was very good, and it showed.His piece was by Bartok, a concerto Yuri had heard before but never attempted to play, and although Yuri had to admit that while maybe it wasn't the prettiest piece in the world, JJ presented it beautifully.But Yuri couldn't concentrate.Not even music, his passion, the one thing he could talk about and listen to and think about for hours on end didn't interest him.All Yuri could think about was what would happen when he went up on that stage.It would be the ultimate test, and Yuri wasn't 100% sure he would pass.It scared him a little.

Before Yuri realized what was going on the audience around him was clapping, and he realized he had blanked out.JJ had finished his peace, and he smiled confidently when the announcer declared his score to be a 92.64%.In some ways, Yuri knew, it was a disadvantage to go first.But that was a very strong score.

"Davai, Beka," Yuri managed to say without his voice trembling, and he reached out to hug his best friend.

Otabek hugged him back, his oboe digging into the space between his shoulder blades, and whispered, "Davai yourself."

With that the older boy stood and walked up to the stage with his normal expressionless facade.Yuri could see the nervousness thrumming through his friend anyway, in the stiffness of Otabek's shoulders and the slight clench of his jaw, in the posture that was even straighter than normal.

Otabek mounted the stage, gave the audience a perfunctory bow, and then turned his full attention to the conductor.The audience quieted, and Otabek gave the conductor a nod before the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yOd1y6gvYg%20) started.

Yuri leaned forward in his seat, carefully cradling his violin, and tried to listen.He really did.But Otabek's music, while mesmerizing, couldn't overpower the buzzing in Yuri's ears.In less than fifteen minutes he was going to be in that stage... In less than ten minutes... Less than five... One... 

Yuri clapped wildly for Otabek, and resolved to ask for an encore performance later to make up for his horrible lack of attention.It was because of the lack of attention that he was shocked when the announcer said to the audience that Otabek had earned a score of 91.98%.Otabek returned to his seat, face as blank as ever, but Yuri could tell he was disappointed.

"You were robbed!" he hissed furiously.

Otabek shook his head."I could have played better," he said dismissively, and then patted Yuri in the back."Go.It's your turn.Make us proud, Yura.”

In an almost dreamlike state, Yuri stood and walked with his violin and bow onto the stage.It didn't seem real.It seemed surreal that he could actually be here, in the international stage, about to play against some of the most talented musicians in the world in a competition he had managed to convince himself he could win.God, what was he doing here?

Yuri took his place center stage and glanced over his shoulder at the orchestra.The concert mistress,  a woman probably old enough to be his mother, gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Yuri swallowed hard, and faced the audience.They were clapping.Why were they clapping?

Yuri lifted his violin to his shoulder, and immediately the audience quieted.A rush of power shot through Yuri.He had done that.He had caused this silence, a silence so deep and complete that it made his ears hurt.

He nodded, and the orchestra started[ playing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEbyyqyKtM0&feature=youtu.be).Yuri followed a moment later as his cue came up, and he slipped into the familiar, comforting rhythms.It was like coming home.After so many months, playing this piece was like coming home.It belonged to him.It was a part of him.

Yuri kept his eyes open, not staring at any particular thing as the music flowed out of his instrument almost unbidden.He made eye contact with a pair of dark eyes in the front of the audience, only visible because of the stage lights glinting in their depths, and his forte grew that much stronger.He caught sight of a head of silver hair off to the left, and his glissando up the A string was the cleanest it had ever been.He noticed the flash of a golden ring, and his slurs slid together cleanly, singing like they were meant to be connected.He caught a glimpse of two shadows in the back, barely visible in the shadows of the auditorium, one tall and thin and one stockier, with a hat planted on its head, and he hit every single fast note with pinpoint precision.

And then, some how, Yuri was on what he knew was the last page, the last few lines, the last few bars, the last few notes, and the remnants of his music were left to fade back into the silence until the last echoes were snuffed out in the wild bursts of applause.

Yuri blinked at the audience, vaguely surprised.He slowly became aware of the beads of sweat rolling down his face, the hair falling in his eyes, the aches in his fingertips and his elbows.Slowly, numbly, he lowered his violin, and automatically bowed.The motion was stiff, unnatural.

And then he heard the announcer's voice, loud enough for everyone to hear:"Wow!What an amazing performance by Yuri Plisetsky of Russia!And the judges' scores are in... Plisetsky ends up with a total final score of 94.14%, and a world record breaking 48.92 out of 50 on his technical performance score!Yuri Plisetsky is currently in first place!"

Yuri cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. That happened. I'll just kinda... leave this chapter here and slowly back away...
> 
> I'll be back with Chapter Nineteen on Monday the 23rd (and by Monday the 23rd we all know I mean Tuesday the 24th because deadlines). Competition part two! Yay! (Bear with me i'm tired). Feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and until I see you next, have a wicked awesome day, dear reader!


	19. The Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri plays the performance of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s a day late again? Hint: it’s me! I don’t have an excuse, but oh well… The chapter you’ve all been waiting for! (And yes, I shamelessly stole the chapter title from the opening theme again… sue me). Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Trigger warning: Yuuri has a small panic attack, where he has doubts about his own future and his relationship with Viktor. It starts at “Yuuri’s breath stalled in his throat…” and ends at “Yuuri managed to uncurl…” if you want to avoid it. Please take care of yourselves, and please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make that scene better.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

 Yuuri knew objectively that, as a competitor, he shouldn’t be as proud of Yuri Plisetsky as he was.But as a musician, and someone who could appreciate all the hard work Yuri had put into perfecting his performance, Yuuri’s breath caught and his heart swelled with a tenuous, unexplainable sense of pride.

“Yura!” Viktor shouted from next to him, clapping even more wildly than Yuuri.He added something in Russian, and then whistled loudly.On Yuuri’s other side, Phichit was cheering just as loudly, shouting something about broken records.

Onstage, Yuri bowed low, violin held tight to his chest, and then made his way off the stage, an enormous smile on his face and a few proud tears in his eyes.Yuuri was half-convinced that it was the first time he had seen Yuri Plisetsky truely smile.

The house lights brightened a little, and onstage the event coordinator announced an hour intermission to give the accompanying orchestra a break and the second set of musicians a chance to warm up, but Yuuri was more focused on the violinist making his way towards the roped off row of seats where the other competitors sat.

“Yura,” Otabek said in a level voice when Yuri was within earshot.

The younger boy looked at his friend with a mixture of pride and apprehension on his face.“Beka?”

Otabek smiled.“Nice job,” he said, and Yuri positively beamed.

“Yura!” Viktor exclaimed, and threw his arms around the violinist.

“Agh!” Yuri yelped.“Get off me, old man!”

“Yura, you broke my record!” Viktor exclaimed in delight, still clinging to his friend’s small frame despite Yuri’s half-hearted efforts to get him away.

“Yeah, and you’re never getting it back,” Yuri snapped with absolutely no bite to his voice.

“Well done, Yuri, you sounded wonderful,” Yuuri said quietly, patting Viktor on the back as a signal to loosen his grip a little so Yuri wouldn’t crack a rib.

Something soft and delighted flashed in Yuri’s eyes for a moment before he looked away.“Yeah, whatever,” he said, and when he made eye contact again his expression was flinty.“Think you can beat _that_ score, Katsuki?”

Yuuri swallowed hard, fists clenching nervously.“I hope so,” he said with an unconvincing laugh.

“I can’t believe you _beat_ me," JJ said incredulously.He stared at Yuri as if seeing him for the first time.

"I can," Chris said with a smirk."That was a very passionate performance."

Yuri squinted at him, probably trying to figure out if there was an innuendo in there somewhere, and then jerked his chin in an accepting nod.“For God’s sake, Vitya, get the fuck off me!” he snapped, flailing his arm to dislodge Viktor, who was still hugging him.“You’re going to crush my violin!”

Viktor let go immediately, and said without a trace of guilt, “You could do with a better violin, anyway.” Yuri rolled his eyes, and said something in Russian that made Viktor laugh.

“So what are we supposed to do during intermission?” Phichit asked, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

“Well, the two of us and Chris are technically supposed to warm up in time for our performances,” Yuuri said quietly, smiling gratefully when Viktor reached out and captured one of his trembling hands.

“I don’t want you to spend more than half an hour warming up, solnyshko,” Viktor said with a slight frown.“I want you to be at your peak for the performance.”Yuuri nodded.

“I’m going to go find Josef,” Chris announced, straightening the lapels of his jacket.He patted Yuuri on the lower back, a little too close to his butt, and then said slyly, “I’ll see everyone later.”

“I should probably find my teacher as well,” Phichit said regretfully.He gave Yuuri a quick hug, and whispered in his ear, “I’ll see you in a bit.I’ll cheer for you!”

“I’ll cheer for you, too,” Yuuri murmured back, and let go.

JJ and Otabek dispersed as well, JJ still with a stunned expression on his face and Otabek only after muttering something in Yuri’s ear, but just as Yuuri and Viktor were ready to leave they came face to face with Yakov Feltsman, Yuri's teacher and Viktor’s old mentor.“Congratulations, Yura,” the older man said, attention first and foremost on Yuri.“You’ve made your grandfather proud, I’m sure.You’ve earned this win.”Something almost like guilt flickered in Yuri’s eyes, and he murmured something in Russian.Yakov raised an eyebrow, but answered, “Of course, if that’s what you think.”He turned to Viktor and Yuuri, and said in a level voice, “Vitya.”He nodded respectfully to Yuuri.“Mr. Katsuki.”

“Hi, Yakov!” Viktor said brightly, squeezing Yuuri’s fingers a little.“It’s good to see you again!How’s Russia been treating you?Have you changed something in your teaching methods?Yuri seems a lot better this season!”Yuri bristled at that, but was largely ignored.

“Russia is fine,” Yakov answered calmly, arms crossed over his chest, and eyed Viktor and Yuuri for a moment before asking something in Russian.

“English, please, for Yuuri’s sake,” Viktor requested politely, but now there was something slightly harder in his voice.

“Are you coming back?” Yakov asked, this time in English.

“Am I coming back to playing?” Viktor mused.“Absolutely.Am I coming back to Russia?”He shrugged.“That’s unclear at this point.”

Yakov gave Yuuri an uncomfortable look, but said in a low voice, “Vitya, are you sure you want to throw away your career for a fling, you-”

Every trace of friendliness was gone from Viktor’s expression.“It’s not a fling, Yakov,” he said, pulling Yuuri into his side.Yuuri gulped, uncomfortable with the weight ofYakov’s displeasure on his shoulders.Viktor held up his and Yuuri’s clasped hands, Viktor’s ring clearly glinting in the soft house lights.“I proposed,” he said.“We’re going to get married.”

Yakov blinked in surprise.

“We’ll stay in New York at least until our wedding, to make sure that it’s legally binding,” Viktor said calmly, glancing down at Yuuri to make sure it was OK.Yuuri looked back up at him, hoping his expression was able to communicate that he would follow Viktor to the ends of the earth if it meant they could stay together.Viktor’s expression softened, love shining in his eyes.He turned back to Yakov, and finished, “We’ll figure out where to go from there, together.”He paused, and then added as if Yakov hadn’t grasped it yet, “As husbands.”

Yakov drew himself up, and then said gravely, “Congratulations on your engagement, then.I hadn’t realized your relationship was so serious.”

“Yakov!” Viktor gasped in mock horror.“Everything I do is serious!”Yuuri and Yuri snorted almost in unison, and then made eye contact and smiled at each other.

“Contact me if you plan on coming back to Russia,” Yakov said with a firm nod, and then glanced at Yuuri, his expression turning slightly less stern.“You’re good for him, Katsuki.I’ve never seen him take anything more seriously than the way he seems to feel about you.”

Viktor sagged against Yuuri as if mortally wounded by Yakov’s accusations, and Yuuri said quietly, “Thank you, Mr. Feltsman.”

Yakov gave him another polite nod, and then turned to Yuri.“You should put your violin away, and get a drink,” he said quietly, one hand on the teenager’s shoulder.  

Yuri nodded. “Don’t fail, or whatever,” he said to Yuuri, and then the two Russians left, leaving Yuuri alone with his fiancé.Viktor immediately wrapped his arms around Yuuri and pulled him close, burying his nose in Yuuri’s hair.

“Vitya?” Yuuri whispered.

“I would never have given you up,” Viktor said quietly, one hand cupping the back of Yuuri’s head.“But it would have been irritating to be at odds with Yakov about you.”

Yuuri closed his eyes and leaned against Viktor, head fitting comfortably in the crook of Viktor’s neck.“I was worried he was going to insist you break up with me and go back to Russia with him,” he admitted.

Viktor’s shoulders shifted in a shrug.“Yakov can be harsh, but he’s not cruel,” he said.“Honestly, I think he was more worried about me breaking _your_ heart than the other way ‘round.”

Yuuri slipped his arms around Viktor’s waist, clinging tightly.“I love you,” he whispered.

Viktor’s lips brushed Yuuri’s temple,“I love you too.”He ran one hand up and down Yuuri’s spine, and then said, “Do you want to get your instrument, solnyshko?”

“That would be a good idea,” Yuuri agreed.Neither of them moved.

“We might need to let go of each other,” Yuuri said after a moment with a soft laugh.

Viktor hugged him tighter.“Never!”

Yuuri laughed a little louder, and patted Viktor on the shoulder.“It’s alright, Vitya,” he said.“Come on, I need to get warmed up.” _I need to be ready if I even have a chance at third_ , he added internally.Sickening fear suddenly flooded his lungs, making his chest feel tight.While watching the other musicians perform, he had been able to ignore the fact that he would be on that stage soon enough.He had allowed himself to be distracted by the beautiful music, and now his anxiety and terror for his coming performance all came flooding back.

“Yuura?” Viktor said quietly, sensing that something was wrong.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri managed to choke out in more of a strangled whisper than anything else.

Viktor pressed his lips to Yuuri’s cheek and ran his hand up and down Yuuri’s back again.“What do you want to do?”

“I just need to go warm up,” Yuuri admitted.“It’s fine.I’m fine.”

“Hm,” Viktor murmured, sounding a little unconvinced, but he gave Yuuri a small kiss before loosening his grip.“Solnyshko, there may be reporters who want to interview you,” he said quietly, taking Yuuri’s hand and leading him towards the door that would let them out and into the back hallways that led to Yuuri’s assigned practice room.Yuuri glanced over his shoulder.Although the competition was in a large concert hall with row after row of seats and balconies galore, and many of the audience members had remained in the hall despite the declared intermission, he hadn’t been approached for any sort of interview.Just the thought of prying questions, the thought of hundreds of eyes on him, voices clamoring for his attention, made him feel sick to his stomach.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Viktor said firmly, putting an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and steering him out of the hall.“I can tell them-”

“Viktor Nikiforov!”

Viktor and Yuuri paused as the door to the hall closed behind them, cutting off the sound of hundreds of voices talking.Yuuri bit his lip hard when he caught sight of the reporter hurrying towards them with her microphone outstretched, a cameraman at her back.

“Do you want to decline?” Viktor whispered before they were in earshot.

Yuuri gave him a nervous, shaky smile.“They want to interview _you_ , Vitya,” he replied.

“Mr. Nikiforov!” the reporter said again when she was closer.Looking behind her, Yuuri could see that Yuri Plisetsky, JJ, and Otabek had all been caught by different reporters as well.The reporter talking to Otabek seemed intimidated, JJ was busy charming his interviewer, and Yuri Plisetsky scowled while Yakov did the talking.“Can I ask you a few questions, Mr. Nikiforov?” the reporter asked, stopping in front of them.

Viktor gave her his trademark blinding press smile.“Of course,” he exclaimed.

The reporter straightened her spine, and then asked, “What has taken you out of competition this year, Mr. Nikiforov?I heard rumors about an injury, but…”She gave him a very obvious once-over, and then finished, “That doesn’t seem to be true.”

Viktor’s smile turned brittle.“I had injuries in my wrist and hand until it would have been too late to enter,” he replied tightly.“I decided it would be better to help another musician reach the ICC instead.”He rested a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri leaned into his touch slightly.

“And how do you feel about Yuri Plisetsky taking your technical score world record?” the reporter pressed.

“He didn’t take it,” Viktor said calmly.“Yura earned it.I’m proud of him, and as a musician I want to try my best to match him.”

“And how about you, Mr. Katsuki?” the reporter asked, turning her attention to Yuuri.Yuuri tried not to flinch or look too weird under the camera’s eye.“How do you feel your performance is going to go?”

“I-”Yuuri stammered.He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and then said firmly, “I’m going to play my best today.”

“Do you think you have a chance at coming in third?” she asked, with a slight edge to her words. Yuuri blinked.

“Yuuri is perfectly capable of winning,” Viktor said, his grip on Yuuri’s shoulder tightening slightly.“He’s got the skills for it.”

“Maybe,” the reporter said, sounding unconvinced.“But realistically, the chances of you surpassing both Yuri Plisetsky’s 94.12% and JJ’s 92.64% are low.Any thoughts?”

Yuuri nervously licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry.“I- I’m going to try,” he rasped, and then swallowed, wishing he had a glass of water.The sick, nervous, panicky feeling in his stomach was back, and he might need to find a bathroom and lock himself in a stall for a few minutes to calm down if this interview didn’t end soon.

The reporter nodded, looking extremely dubious.Yuuri suspected she was more of a fan of either Yuri or JJ.At his side, Viktor watched with sharp eyes but didn’t intervene.He seemed to sense that stepping in wouldn’t do Yuuri any good."I have one last question, Mr. Katsuki," the reporter asked with a slightly malicious smile, eyes focusing on Viktor again."There have been rumors that you are in a romantic relationship with your teacher and mentor, Mr. Nikiforov.Can you confirm or deny these rumors?"

Yuuri swallowed, glancing at Viktor.His fiancé smiled reassuringly."Y-yes," Yuuri stammered."We're together.Yes."

"We're engaged!" Viktor added blithely, happily kissing Yuuri on the top of the head.Yuuri blushed a little, but didn't protest when Viktor held up his hand to show off their engagement rings.The reporter's smile got a little fixed, but Viktor didn't seem to notice.Yuuri noticed, and fidgeted nervously.

"When's the wedding?" the reporter asked, eyeing the clear lack of space between Viktor and Yuuri.Yuuri was honestly a little surprised that she had waited until the end of the interview to ask about their relationship.It wasn’t exactly mainstream for a musician to date and get engaged to his mentor, especially when they were both men, and Yuuri well knew that people talked about them.Even the little he heard from Phichit was enough to confirm that.Most of the time it didn’t bother Yuuri as much as he had expected, because it meant that people knew Viktor was _his_ , but there was something in this reporter’s gaze… almost like their closeness offended her.

Viktor smiled at Yuuri, eyes bright and happy."We'll get married after Yuuri wins the ICC," he replied, giving Yuuri's shoulders a quick squeeze.At that, Yuuri's smile became fixed.Was Viktor saying that they wouldn't get married until he won the competition?That was a lot of pressure.Maybe more pressure than he could handle.

The reporter laughed lightly, but there was a slightly callous edge to it."Then I guess it's a good thing that you'll have a few years to plan the wedding," she said jokingly.

Yuuri curled in on himself at that, stunned, and Viktor stiffened."Excuse me?"

The reporter smiled blandly at him."Well, a violist had never won the ICC, and after violinist Plisetsky's score it seems unlikely that that streak will be broken today.You might want to change that ultimatum, if you ever want to get married at all.”

Yuuri flinched again, trying to shut her words out.He _knew_ that.He _knew_ how small the odds were that he would actually be able to pull off a win after Yuri's incredible 94.12%, as much as he tried desperately to convince himself otherwise.He wasn't sure it was even possible, and this reporter, who had probably been reporting for the music industry for years if she had been let in to the back halls of the ICC finals and therefore knew what she was talking about, was confirming it.

Yuuri's breath stalled in the back of his throat, clogging up his lungs like a physical substance.He wouldn't be able to win, he wouldn’t be able to fulfill the promise he had made Viktor, the promise to make his time worth it.There was no chance that he would be able to win.And if he didn't win, Viktor wouldn't marry him.If he didn't win this year, or the next, or the next, Viktor wouldn't marry him.Viktor wouldn't stay with him.Eventually he would come to his senses, realize that he could be with someone so much better than an anxious, washed up violist. Because there were so many better people, right?

Yuuri was vaguely aware of Viktor saying something to the reporter, voice sharp, and then the Russian man had one arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and was leading him away from her, down the corridor.

“Yuura, Yuura,” Viktor was murmuring, over and over again.Yuuri gulped deep breaths of air, trying to get ahold of himself.In the back of his mind he knew, logically, that what he was thinking didn’t make sense.Viktor had been the one to propose, Viktor had told him more than once that he loved him, Viktor had been nothing but patient and loving with him, Viktor had insisted time and time again that nothing Yuuri did was wasting his time.But that knowledge did nothing to stop Yuuri’s shaking, or the choked, sharp gasps of air in and out of his constricted chest.

“Please, Yuura,” Viktor whispered.He bundled Yuuri through a door, closing it behind them.“What do you need?”

Without speaking, without knowing if he _could_ speak, Yuuri curled in on himself and leaned against the wall, trembling.He vaguely registered cool tiles at his back, and the faint smell of cleaning fluid and urine, but squeezed his eyes shut before registering more than the white tile wall of the bathroom they were in.

“Yuura,” Viktor whispered, one hand brushing Yuuri’s cheekbone.“Damn, what did Phichit do?” he muttered to himself, and then took one of Yuuri’s hands, pressing it to his chest.“Breathe with me?” he said, more of a request than an order.Yuuri’s fingers curled into the starched fabric of Viktor’s shirt.He was desperate for something, anything, to anchor himself in his flood of anxiety.He felt Viktor’s chest rise and fall under his fingertips, and with great effort managed to match his breathing to that movement.

He could hear Viktor talking to him, murmuring encouragements and sweet nothings in his ear, but he tuned that out and tried to get rid of any thoughts.He _couldn’t_ think about losing Viktor.He _couldn’t_.It would break him.He couldn’t think about all the ways he might fail, not before the competition.With Herculean effort, he focused only on the breath going in and out of his lungs, which seemed less tight than before.

Yuuri finally opened his eyes to see Viktor studying him worriedly, a small crease between his eyebrows.“Yuura?” he said quietly.

Yuuri managed to uncurl the stiff fingers of his right hand and awkwardly patted Viktor on the chest.“I’m alright,” he said hoarsely.

“Can I touch you?” Viktor asked, lips curled in a sweet, concerned frown.

Yuuri nodded, and Viktor immediately cupped Yuuri’s face in both hands and pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes.For the first time, Yuuri noticed that Viktor’s hands were trembling.“Vitya?” he said quietly.“Are you alright?”

“That's what I should be asking you,” Viktor said with a quiet laugh.

Yuuri swallowed around the lump in his throat, and then said, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor asked, stroking his thumb over Yuuri’s cheekbone.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Yuuri amended.“I’m sorry for letting the pressure get to me.”

“Yuura, don’t apologize for that,” Viktor said quietly, looking a little upset.“Please, don’t apologize for that.”

Yuuri took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Viktor whispered, fingertips toying with the ends of Yuuri's hair.

"Pressure," Yuuri muttered."I always break under pressure.I have to win, so you'll marry me, and-"

"Yuuri," Viktor said, cutting him off.Yuuri's eyes snapped open in surprise.Viktor didn't often interrupt him, and the use of his real name rather than a nickname was jarring."Yuura," Viktor said again, this time with a bit of a laugh in his voice."My saying that I want to marry you after you win wasn't an ultimatum in any way." 

"It... Wasn't?" Yuuri murmured, and Viktor nodded, pressing his lips to Yuuri's forehead.

"It wasn't," he agreed."I was offering a time frame.We'll get married after the ICC finals, which have full confidence that you can win."

Yuuri exhaled slowly."You'll still marry me if I lose?"

"Of course, solnyshko," Viktor said, kissing Yuuri on the tip of the nose."I'm not giving you up without a fight.You'll have to do a lot more than just miss first to get rid of me."

Yuuri cracked a nervous smile."Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Viktor said with decisive nod.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” Yuuri said quietly, meeting Viktor’s eyes.

Viktor gazed back, blue eyes clear and certain, close enough that his bangs brushed Yuuri’s forehead.“Whatever happens, you’re not going to disappoint me,” he said firmly.“Yuuri, even the fact that you made it here means that you’re one of the six most talented musicians in the world.”

“Seven,” Yuuri corrected, tapping him on the nose.

Viktor smiled.“No matter what happens, I will be proud of you,” he said.“Everyone who cares about you is rooting for you.We’re all behind you, and we all want to support you.Even if you don’t come in first, we’re not giving up on you.”

Yuuri was a little embarrassed to admit that he got slightly teary-eyed at that.“Thank you,” he whispered.

Viktor smiled, and leaned in to kiss Yuuri on the lips, still cupping his face.Yuuri kissed back, bringing his arms up around Viktor's waist."Viten'ka," he muttered against Viktor's lips.

Viktor pulled back slightly."What did you say?"

Yuuri squeaked, averting his eyes."Ah, sorry, I-"

"Say it again," Viktor interrupted.

Yuuri blinked shyly up at his fiancé."...Viten'ka?"

Viktor closed his eyes and sighed happily, nuzzling Yuuri's cheek."Again, please," he murmured.

"Viten'ka," Yuuri said firmly, and tilted his head to kiss Viktor again.

"I love you so much," Viktor muttered against his lips, gently petting Yuuri's hair."My Yuurashka, my solnyshko, lyubov moya..."

Yuuri just hummed contentedly.After hovering on the edge of an anxiety attack about losing his love, he welcomed the closeness.“We should go to your practice room,” Viktor said, voice muffled as he tried to speak and kiss Yuuri at the same time.

“Mm,” Yuuri agreed.

Viktor kissed him for another long moment and then pulled away, eyes wide and reluctant.“We should probably actually go,” he said reluctantly.

Yuuri leaned against him, and Viktor accepted the hug wordlessly.“OK, let’s go,” Yuuri finally said, loosening his grip. Viktor nodded, lacing their fingers together.

“How much did that reporter see?” Yuuri asked as they left the bathroom, dreading the answer.

“I told her to stop haranguing you after you started to shake,” Viktor said.“I don’t think she noticed.”He frowned.“I’m disappointed that they would let someone who doesn’t respect _all_ musicians back to interview the competitors.”

“It’s OK,” Yuuri said, giving Viktor’s hand a squeeze.“I’m OK.”

Viktor’s frown deepened slightly, but all he said was, “Do you know which practice room you’re in?”

Yuuri laughed quietly. “This way,” he said, and tugged on Viktor’s hand to lead him down the hall to where the practice rooms were.As they passed he could hear the deep, hollow, woody sounds of Phichit warming up, and low, sonorous notes from Chris’s cello.Also, for whatever reason, Yuri Plisetsky was back in his own practice room playing obnoxious, discordant glissandos up and down the E string.

“Here,” Yuuri said, unlocking his door with the key he had been given at the beginning of the competition, and letting them into his practice room.He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he spotted his viola next to the chair that Viktor had left his bagon, sheet music still piled on the music stand that had been provided.He didn’t want to admit it, but Viktor’s stories about people having their instruments stolen before they could compete had made him nervous.Then again, no one probably saw Yuuri as enough of a threat to justify stealing his viola.

Yuuri crossed the room and gratefully knelt in front of his viola case, laying it out flat and popping the latches.Viktor closed the door with a soft snick and came to stand behind Yuuri, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment before rummaging in his satchel.

“Water?” he offered quietly, and Yuuri carefully ran his fingers over his strings to test the tension.

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, accepting the water bottle without looking away from his instrument.Viktor dug out his own bottle of water, and Yuuri took a few gulps as he looked over the body of his viola for any cracks or scrapes.

“Any issues?” Viktor asked, settling on the floor next to him with the water bottle hanging loosely from his fingers.Yuuri finished his water with a grateful sigh before putting it down and shaking his head.

“No, my instrument seems fine,” he said, taking it out of the case and cradling it in his arms as he checked the tuning of the string.“Just a little flat.”Yuuri tuned both pizzicato and with his bow, and then turned to Viktor.“What should I work on?”

“Whatever you think you need to,” Viktor replied somberly.He laced his fingers together.“I don’t want to put any pressure on you,because I know that you will do wonderfully no matter what,” he said carefully.“But this is sort of the moment of truth, as they say.Do whatever you think you need to in order to give your best performance.”

Yuuri inhaled slowly.“Got it,” he said quietly, and then stood with his viola under his arm and his bow in his hand.“Listen to me,” Yuuri said, meeting the still-sitting Viktor’s eyes.“Don’t stop listening.”

Viktor nodded fervently, and Yuuri lifted his viola to his shoulder, letting the trapped air in his lungs out in a long, quiet exhale.He placed the bow on the strings and closed his eyes, centering himself.He remembered what the reporter had said.A _violist had never won the ICC, and after violinist Plisetsky's score it seems unlikely that that streak will be broken today._ Frustration burned low in his chest.That was what everyone said, what everyone thought.It hurt, to know that people thought that of him, it hurt a lot.But it hurt more to know that he thought the same thing.He wanted desperately to prove them wrong.He _would_ prove them wrong.

Yuuri let the first notes of his piece flow smoothly out of from underneath his bow, and played through the first few lines without a hitch.When he got to a slow section, he effortlessly skipped it and transitioned to one of the more difficult sections further in without missing a beat.Yuuri went through his entire piece like that, playing the harder parts one after another, until he reached the last line and finished.Yuuri stayed with his eyes closed and his viola raised for a moment, breathing hard, before he relaxed and opened his eyes.

Viktor was, for some reason, still sitting on the floor, and he was gazing up at Yuuri with an almost childlike wonder in his eyes.Yuuri squirmed under his scrutiny, pulling his viola closer to his chest.“Was that… was that alright?” he asked tentatively.

Viktor nodded frantically.“Yuuri, when you play…” he said and then trailed off, as if struggling for the words.He made eye contact again, and finished, “It’s ethereal.Otherworldly.I don’t know what you were thinking about when you just played for me, but you might want to think about it during the competition as well.”

Yuuri blushed.“It was OK, then?”

Viktor nodded vehemently.“I was trying to keep a running score in my head,” he said, unfolding his long legs and standing.“I kept getting distracted by how beautiful you are, but I’d put that at at least a 90%.”

Yuuri blinked at him.“Tell me the truth.”

Viktor smiled, reaching out to brush his fingers over the scroll of Yuuri’s viola.“It is the truth.Granted, you didn’t play your entire piece so the score might change, but the technical errors you made were relatively minor, and your subjective score would more than make up for it.”

Yuuri chewed on his lip.“Technical errors?” he asked.

Viktor snapped his fingers.“Right.”He reached around Yuuri for the sheet music, and then rifled through it.“You missed a note here, in sixty two,” he said, pointing to a cluster of sixteenths up and down the A string.Yuuri nodded, absently fingering the notes.Viktor flipped through the pages again.“These F#s were a little flat, and you forgot to modulate to the key of E for a note or two here, and your slurs were a bit fuzzy here, and this note was too sharp-”

“Viktor!” Yuuri chuckled, interrupting him.“Slower?”

Viktor grinned sheepishly.“Sorry.Really, though, that was pretty much it.”He lowered the music and took a deep breath, meeting Yuuri’s eyes.“I think you’re ready.”

Yuuri glanced at his watch.“That’s good, since intermission is over in fifteen minutes,” he replied.

Viktor smiled knowingly, kissing him on the forehead.“You want to go talk to Phichit?”

Yuuri nodded.“If you really think I’m ready…” he teased, and Viktor grinned.

“I really do.”

Yuuri smiled in return.“I’ll come back before the intermission is over,” he said.Viktor nodded, raising a hand in a wave as he shuffled through Yuuri’s music again.

Yuuri left the room with a smile and a small laugh, and wandered down the short hall to Phichit’s practice room.He knocked quietly on the doorframe, and then opened the door to find Phichit sprawled out on the floor holding his phone up in front of his face, clarinet on his lap.“Hey, Yuuri,” Phichit said with a grin.“I was just going to text you.”

Yuuri sat down crosslegged next to his friend, and rested his viola in his lap.“How are you doing?”

“I’m doing great!” Phichit chirped, despite the fact that he looked noticeably paler than he usually was, and his smile was a little shaky.

Yuuri looked down at his instrument.“Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

“Are _you_ alright?” Phichit countered.

Yuuri exhaled slowly.“Yeah,” he said.“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Phichit studied him a moment, and then wordlessly lifted his clarinet to his lips and played the first few [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0wYD4MzwUw%20) of a familiar melody, starting where the clarinet came in during the piece.Yuuri smiled, and tucked his viola under his chin, joining in after a few bars.

Back when he and Phichit had first met, Phichit had insisted they find a duet for clarinet and viola to learn together, as a sign of their new friendship, and Yuuri always made sure that he kept it in good practice.It seemed like Phichit did the same, if his fluency in playing was anything to go by.

Yuuri let his eyes flutter closed for a moment and sank into the music, the anxious bundle of nerves in his stomach quieting for the time being.Phichit smiled around his mouthpiece, skillfully fingering notes in tandem with Yuuri.Yuuri smiled back, and relaxed as they played together until they reached a good stopping point.

“We still got it!” Phichit said happily, lowering his clarinet and grinning.

Yuuri fiddled with his D string.“We do.”

Phichit leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.“No matter what happens, I’m really glad we got to be here together,” he said.

Yuuri nodded quickly.“Agreed,” he said, and nudged Phichit with his foot.“Glad to be here with you.”

“You can come in, Viktor,” Phichit called suddenly, and Yuuri blinked at him.

“What?” he glanced over his shoulder to see Viktor grinning sheepishly as he stepped into view.

“Sorry,” the Russian man said without much remorse.“You sounded very good together, though.”

“Thanks,” Phichit laughed.“We’ve had that one together for a while, now.”He squinted thoughtfully.“Come to think, we might be able to find a trio for violin, viola, and clarinet.”

“Or ask Ketty for one,” Yuuri pointed out quietly.

Viktor smiled at them, and then said, “I came to let you know that intermission is over in five minutes.We should probably get back to the concert hall.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Phichit chirped, jumping to his feet.

Yuuri got up a little more slowly, carefully readjusting his grip on his viola, and then took the hand that Viktor offered him.His fiancé smiled reassuringly and squeezed his fingers.“Ready?”

Yuuri swallowed.“As I’ll ever be.”

Viktor gave Phichit a confident grin.“I’m looking forward to your performance as well, Phichit,” he said.

Phichit smiled back.“Me too,” he said as they left the practice room together and walked in the direction of the concert hall.“I have a good feeling about the both of our pieces.”

Viktor held the door open for them, and Yuuri took a deep breath before stepping inside just as the house lights flickered a few times, warning the audience to take a seat.Viktor rested his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back, warm and reassuring, and Yuuri relaxed slightly as they took their seats.

Christophe was already onstage, and the lights dimmed and the chatter of the audience quieted as Yuuri settled, still holding Viktor’s hand.Chris made eye contact with the conductor, and then lifted his bow to the strings, nodding.The orchestra began to play, a sweet, smooth [melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XyaE64LYf_s), and then after a few lines Chris joined in with a similar melody, a surprisingly angelic, peaceful expression on his face.Yuuri exhaled slowly, eyes wide, as Chris proceeded to play ridiculously high, fast notes, building on the simple, original theme.He didn’t make too many obvious mistakes that Yuuri heard, and when he finished the audience almost immediately burst into applause.Grinning, Chris stood and bowed several times, holding the neck of his cello in once hand. 

The clapping was just dying down when the announcer declared, “Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland, with a final score of… 90.92%!”Chris smiled, bowing again before walking offstage.

"Well, that's me," Phichit said nervously, standing and shifting nervously.

Yuuri reached out and caught his friend's hand."You're going to do great," he said."We're cheering for you."

Phichit smiled back, and straightened his spine."You're right," he said."I'm ready for this."

Yuuri say back in his seat and watched with a happy smile as his best friend reached the stage and centered himself, grinning and exchanging a few friendly words with the conductor and the concertmaster.The audience quieted again as the conductor raised her baton, and then Phichit smiled as he and the orchestra launched into his [piece](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GnJBLwOjFo), the notes flowing and mixing to create a dynamic, wonderful sound.Yuuri leaned forward in his chair, enraptured.Phichit played with the same sort of charisma that he always had about him, happy and genuine and hopeful that gave his music a unique edge.It ended too quickly, in Yuuri's opinion, but he didn't even hesitate to jump to his feet and clap as well as he could for his friend with his viola in hand.

"That dynamic performance was Phichit Chulanont of Thailand," the announcer said."His final scores are in... That's a 92.52%!Chulanont is currently in third place!"

"Go Phichit!" Yuuri shouted as the audience clapped again.The Thai man bowed, a wide grin on his face, and then blew a kiss to the crowd before vacating the stage.

"Yuura, darling," Viktor said quietly."It's your turn."

Yuuri's world narrowed.Viktor rested a hand on Yuuri's shoulder."Remember what I said," he murmured."We're all rooting for you.We all want you do do well.I'll be proud of you no matter what happens." Yuuri nodded.Viktor lifted Yuuri's left hand to his lips, and kissed his calloused fingertips."Go ahead, solnyshko," he said.

Yuuri strengthened his resolve, and then leaned in close."Listen to me," he said fiercely, meeting Viktor's gaze."Don't stop listening."

"Never," Viktor agreed breathlessly, and Yuuri gave his fiancé a quick kiss before stepping around him to walk onstage. He passed Phichit on the way, and his friend gave him a thumbs up and a wink.Yuuri smiled back wanly, and then mounted the steps to the stage and took his place in front of the orchestra.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Katsuki," the conductor said, too quietly for anyone but Yuuri to hear.Yuuri nodded, lifting his viola to his shoulder.The conductor raised her baton, and the orchestra shuffled to attention.

Yuuri closed his eyes, collecting himself and shoving the nerves down.Now was not the time to crack.Now, more than ever, he had to prove that he could be strong.What was it Viktor had said? _Everyone who cares about you is rooting for you.We’re all behind you, and we all want to support you.Even if you don’t come in first, we’re not giving up on you._ And Yuuri knew, as he played the first few [notes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I7FT0PHG9E), the orchestra swelling behind him.He knew what he was playing for, what story he was trying to tell.

In the qualifier, he had played for himself.He had played to prove himself, to banish his own doubts.And that had been enough.It had been enough to conquer some of his own doubts and insecurities.But here... Against the best of the best, he needed more.

What Viktor had said... It reminded him that he wasn't fighting alone.He had Ketty, who had written this wonderful piece for him and had spent hours going over it with him to make sure it was absolutely perfect. 

Yuuri hit the note in measure sixty two that he had missed in rehearsal.

He had Phichit, who was always willing to listen to him practice or help him find music, or distract him so he didn't hurt himself practicing too much.

Yuuri switched to the key of E at exactly the right moment, hitting the next notes perfectly in tune.

He had his family, who had found a way against the odds to send him to music school in America, his friends and loved ones back in Japan who watched his performances and listened to his music and made sure to call as much as possible. 

Yuuri's slurs were clean and clear, without a hint of fuzz.

And most of all, Yuuri had Viktor.He had Viktor, who spent hours with him practicing, and hours more talking and laughing and smiling with each other.He had Viktor, who had moved halfway across the world for him, who was going to stay for him.He had Viktor, who he was going to spend the rest of his life with.He had Viktor, who _loved_ him.

And Yuuri played that love, played the way Viktor made him feel, the way he looked at him.Playing for himself was good.It was a solid strategy.But he wouldn't have ever been able to get where he was without the people supporting him.Without the people who _loved_ him.

Yuuri's final notes echoed in the quiet concert hall as the orchestra faded out behind him, and it was a painfully long moment before the applause started.Yuuri lowered his instrument with a quiet sigh of relief, and bowed.He had given it his all.Now he would have to see if everything he had was enough.

The audience was still cheering, still cheering for _him_ , for a _violist_ , when the results came in.The announcer had to call for quiet three times, and even then Yuuri thought he heard Phichit's voice in the audience."Katsuki Yuuri," the announcer said gravely, but there was a hint of something excited and breathless in his voice."Scores are in for Katsuki Yuuri of Japan," the announcer said, and Yuuri's breath caught.

The moment of truth.

"Katsuki finishes with a staggering 94.14%, and breaks the world record for subjective performance score with an almost perfect 49.32 out of 50," the announcer said, not even trying to hide his glee."That puts Katsuki in first place, 0.02% ahead of Plisetsky.For the first time in history a violist has won the International Concerto Competition, and that violist is Katsuki Yuuri!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you yell at me, I actually HAVE had that ending planned out since chapter 4 or so. So yeah.
> 
> I honestly don’t know when the final chapter (the epilogue) will be out, because I haven’t yet decided which scenes will make the cut. It’s either going to be slightly shorter than the other chapters, or hella long. Let’s just say I’ll have it by November 6th, or thereabouts. Thanks for reading, and feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/).
> 
> So since the next chapter is an epilogue, I just want to say all of my thank you’s here. Thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, subscribed, read, or even just taken a look at this. Thank you to the people who have been with me from the very beginning, the people who picked this fic up in the middle and have continued to the bitter end, the people who are just starting at this chapter, and the people in the future who are reading this fic once it’s finished. You all mean the world to me, and it’s been amazing writing this fic, which turned out to be far longer and more successful than I ever imagined. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, and have an outstanding day.
> 
> -Addy


	20. Rondo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri and Viktor prepare to spend the rest of their lives together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the fluffiest, gayest, most pointless shmoop ever. Just a warning. Also, I usually just provide links to the music if anyone is interested, but I really think this chapter benefited from them, so if you have the time, maybe take a listen? Especially the last two pieces mentioned :D
> 
> Unlike a lot of other music AUs, I didn’t title my chapters with poignant and fitting musical terms. However, this time I thought it was apt. Enjoy!
> 
> Rondo: a musical form with a recurring leading theme, often found in the final movement of a sonata or concerto.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Viktor didn't let go of Yuuri for one moment until they got back to their hotel room after the awards ceremony, and as soon as the door had closed behind them and Yuuri had set down his viola case, Viktor practically tackled Yuuri with an enthusiastic kiss.

"Vitya!" Yuuri laughed, smiling against his lips and clutching at his shoulders to keep his balance.Viktor kissed him again, and then leaned back the tiniest amount, giving Yuuri a little space.Yuuri smiled gently at him, and then pressed their foreheads together and cupped Viktor's face in his hands."Viten'ka," he breathed.

Viktor beamed at him.He couldn't get enough of Yuuri calling him by such an affectionate, intimate nickname."My Yuura," Viktor replied, resting one hand on Yuuri's shoulder and cupping the other around the back of Yuuri's neck."I'm so, so happy right now," Viktor whispered.

Yuuri's eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled slowly."So am I," he replied.

Viktor smiled teasingly, and then toyed with the medal hanging around Yuuri's neck.It had turned out that they did give medals to the first, second, and third place winners, and Viktor was already in love with the way the gold looked against Yuuri's dark suit jacket, and the way the navy blue ribbon rested comfortably against the skin above his collarbones like it had been made especially for him."Where are you going to hang it?" Viktor asked, lifting the medal up a bit.

Yuuri smiled thoughtfully, looking down at the gold in Viktor's hand."I'm not sure," he admitted."I guess I'll figure it out."

"We can start a joint collection," Viktor said."You can add your medals to mine, and then we can finish out your half with four more consecutive wins."

Yuuri laughed, sounding more relieved than nervous."That sounds a little ambitious, Vitya."

Viktor smiled, and kissed Yuuri on the tip of the nose. "I suppose you're right," he said."If I'm going back to competition next year, you might not get four _consecutive_.And if I'm winning as well, you'll just have to try longer to catch up.You don't want the awards cabinet to be unbalanced, would you?"

"Oh, so it's a cabinet now?" Yuuri laughed.He swept his thumb across Viktor's cheekbone, and then whispered, "If it's going to be unbalanced, that balance will tip in _my_ direction, Viten'ka."

Viktor shivered a little, delighted at the confidence in his fiancé's voice.“Is that so?” he purred, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri laughed, and kissed him again.“What, you don’t believe me?”

“I look forward to seeing it,” Viktor replied.

Yuuri smiled, and kissed him a third time, running the fingers of one hand through Viktor’s hair.“So do I.”

Viktor gazed into Yuuri’s eyes, and said, “At some point we need to figure out where we’re going to live.”

Something almost like guilt flickered in Yuuri’s eyes.“Can we talk about it later?” he asked, looking down.Viktor smiled gently.He knew Yuuri was nervous about how they were going to work out who lived where, and felt guilty about the prospect of leaving Phichit high and dry in the middle of their lease on the apartment back in New York.He wouldn’t push, not until Yuuri was ready.

“Of course, solnyshko,” he replied.

Yuuri smiled gratefully.“Thank you, Vitya,” he murmured.

Viktor exhaled softly, and nuzzled Yuuri’s cheek with his nose.“Darling, I love you,” he said automatically, the words so true he didn’t even have to think about saying them.

Yuuri kissed the corner of his mouth.“I love you too,” he said, and then let go of Viktor and said, “I’d like to change out of my concert attire, are you going to change as well?”

Viktor looked down at himself, and shrugged.“I’m planning on wearing the same thing to the banquet, so I won’t bother.”He looked up, caught Yuuri’s eye, and winked.“Unless you’re not planning on changing into anything, that is.”

Yuuri just rolled his eyes, and knelt down in front of his suitcase to find a change of clothes.“It would be a little cold,” he pointed out, pulling a sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of jeans from the neatly folded piles of clothes in his suitcase.

“That’s only if you’re not doing anything,” Viktor pointed out teasingly, leaning against the wall and tucking his hands into his pockets.

Yuuri looked up at him, and chuckled.“So needy, Vitya,” he replied, standing and fiddling with his tie.Viktor smiled back, and politely studied the ceiling as Yuuri changed his clothes.

Viktor smiled when Yuuri leaned against him again, tucking his head under Viktor’s chin.Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri in a hug, and then said into his fiancé’s shoulder, “What now?”

“What time does the banquet start?” Yuuri asked quietly.

Viktor considered that.“Seven, I think,” he replied.“Maybe eight.I have to check.”

“So we have a few hours, then,” Yuuri replied.Viktor nodded.Yuuri smiled coyly, and then rested his hand on Viktor’s chest, and then stood up on his tiptoes to kiss him.“Let’s do something… fun.”

Viktor kissed him back, smiling against Yuuri’s lips.“Let’s, my lovely fiancé.”

Yuuri smiled, but there was something a little shaky in his smile.“Great!” he said.“Rummy or Go Fish?”

Viktor laughed.“Yuura, darling, don’t be ridiculous,” he said.“Go Fish, obviously.” Yuuri kissed him on the cheek, and then bent over to find the deck of cards from his bag.

On the plane, Viktor and Yuuri had played a marathon three hours of various card games Yuuri had picked up in college, games Viktor remembered from his childhood, and games Yuuri still remembered from his.Viktor had found the games Yuuri had learned in America particularly amusing, once he had gotten the hang of them, since they weren’t necessarily something he had been exposed to before.Viktor hadn’t had much time to play with friends as a child, not as a prodigy musician practicing for hours a day under the weight of his parents’ expectations, so it was very nice to be able to sit with his soon-to-be-husband and not have to think too hard about having fun.

Yuuri and Viktor sat across from each other on the bed, and Yuuri crossed his legs before pulling the cards out of the box.“Vitya,” he said tentatively, absently shuffling.

“Yes, solnyshko?” Viktor asked with a smile.Yuuri’s tone was casual, but Viktor could tell from the tension in his shoulders that his fiancé was anxious about something.

Yuuri took a deep breath, and then said in a trembling voice as he started to deal, “We’re going to get married, eventually.”

Viktor beamed at him.“Yes, we are, solnyshko,” he said, reaching out and putting one hand on Yuuri’s exposed ankle, rubbing soothing circles into the skin with his thumb.“What’s the matter, Yuura?” he asked.Yuuri looked up to meet his eyes, and Viktor could see the anxieties, the worries and doubts, swimming in them.“What’s the matter?” he asked in a softer voice.

Yuuri took a deep breath and set the rest of the cards down on the bed beside his leg, nudging one of the piles he had dealt in Viktor’s direction.“I’m just… it’s really hitting me, now,” he said in a small voice.“I’m sorry.I guess it had seemed far off, when you first proposed.We’d get married after the ICC.But now it’s after the ICC, and we’re… going to get married?”He said the last part hesitantly, almost like he wasn’t sure, and Viktor did his best to control his expression so he wouldn’t look too worried.

“Yuura,” he said, reaching out and taking Yuuri’s hands.He lifted the right one to his lips and kissed Yuuri’s ring.“If you feel pressured, we don’t have to get married before you have time to get used to the idea.But there will never be a day that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Yuuri reached out and cupped his face.“I’m not having second thoughts,” he said quickly.“I… I love you.I just… I don’t know.”He laughed self-deprecatingly.“It’s stupid.”

“I’m nervous too,” Viktor told him, turning his head a little so he could kiss Yuuri’s palm.“We have a lot to figure out.A lot to talk about.”

Yuuri gave him a tentative smile.“Yeah.”

“But we’ll be OK,” Viktor finished.“We’ll figure things out together, lyubov moya.”

Yuuri smiled at him, dark eyes shining with love.“I know.”

Viktor smiled, gave Yuuri’s hand one last kiss, and then picked up the pile of cards in front of him.“Remind me of the rules?”

Yuuri laughed quietly, picking up his own cards, and gently instructed Viktor through the first few hands.“Vitya,” Yuuri said suddenly after about ten minutes of playing in quiet companionship only broken by necessary questions.

“Yes, zvezda moya?” Viktor asked with a small smile.

Yuuri blushed, but said, “Where are we going to live?”

Viktor smiled cautiously.“I’m not sure,” he said. “Do you have any nines?”

Yuuri handed him a card, and then said quietly, “Phichit was talking, a while ago, and he suggested that we move in with each other.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“Well, I hope we would, if we’re going to get married,” he replied, giving Yuuri a teasing nudge on the calf with his foot.

Yuuri smiled.“Yeah, true,” he agreed.“Just… are we moving to Russia?Japan?Staying in New York?Or going somewhere else entirely?”

Viktor considered that carefully.“I want to get married in America, if that’s alright with you,” he said carefully.“I want our marriage to be legally binding, and that’s not an option in Russia.I’m not sure about Japan.”

Your frowned thoughtfully.“I think it depends where in Japan you are if you want a civil partnership,” he replied.

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“I want marriage,” he said firmly.“I want to stand with you at an alter and vow to stay by your side, and have all of our friends watch as we prepare to spend the rest of our days together.And also cake.”

Yuuri chuckled.“I want that too, Vitya,” he agreed, and then his smile grew slightly.“As long as the cake is at least partly chocolate.”

“Whipped cream frosting and we have a deal,” Viktor bargained, and Yuuri stuck out his hand.They shook, and then Viktor said thoughtfully, “I don’t know where we should live, to be honest.”He studied the cards in his hands, and then picked another up from the pile between them.“Honestly, it might be dangerous for us to go back to Russia.It’s hard to tell.I don’t know as much about Japan, but I did enjoy our time in Hasetsu.And I’ll admit, New York has really grown on me.”He placed his hand on Yuuri’s knee. “I don’t think I care where we live, Yuura, as long as it’s with you.”

Yuuri blushed a little at that, but smiled.“I feel the same, Viten’ka,” he agreed, putting his hand over Viktor’s.“As long as we’re together.”

Viktor smiled.“Do you have any sixes?” he asked, and Yuuri handed him a card.Viktor smiled as he laid down his hand, glancing significantly at the nonexistent pile of cards they had depleted over the course of their conversation.“I win.What’s my prize?”

Yuuri leaned across the cards and gave him a peck on the lips.“There’s your prize.”

Viktor pouted dramatically.“What, that’s all?” he complained.

Yuuri smirked, deftly gathering up the cards and putting them back in the box.“You asked for it, Viten’ka,” he said, and then scooted closer and gave Viktor a hard kiss, tangling his fingers in Viktor’s hair.Viktor made a happy sound and clutched at his fiancé’s biceps, closing his eyes.When Yuuri pulled away he and Viktor were both panting a little, and Viktor was sure he was blushing.

“Wow!” he said enthusiastically.“Amazing!”

Yuuri laughed.“Vitya,” he said.

Viktor kissed Yuuri again, pulling him close.“We still have some time before the banquet,” he said coyly when they parted.

Yuuri blushed.“Viten’ka…” he murmured.Viktor chuckled, kissing him gently on the cheek.Yuuri smiled slightly and kissed him back, one hand resting on his shoulder.Viktor grinned.

***

“Nice of you to show up!” Yuri Plisetsky snapped when Viktor and Yuuri strolled into the banquet hall some time later, dressed to the nines.The teenager was leaning against the wall, scowling, but he straightened when he caught sight of them.

Viktor pulled Yuuri a little closer to himself as they entered the hall proper, letting the door close behind them.Viktor looked around with interest.It was clear they had pulled out all the stops, with lavish decorations, dozens of guests dressed just as well as they were, and even a string quartet playing quietly off to the side to create a certain sophisticated ambiance.

Viktor’s smile grew.At previous banquets for the ICC finalists, he had been dreadfully bored, but this time he was here as arm candy for his lovely, wonderful fiancé, the winner of the ICC and the first violist in history to break a subjective score world record, or a score of over 90% in a formal competition.Tonight was going to be _fun_ , Viktor decided as he absently caressed the back of Yuuri’s hand with his thumb and kissed his fiancé on the temple.

Yuuri blushed at Yuri’s comment and Viktor’s casual affection, but Viktor only smiled.“Yura, we’re only fifteen minutes late,” he said, and gave Yuuri’s hand a squeeze.

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Twenty.And everyone’s been bothering _me,_ since the winner decided to be fashionably late.”

Yuuri blushed harder, and squeaked out what might have been an apology.

Yuri squinted at them, and then his eyes widened.“Katsuki… you…” he said, and then trailed off and gestured wordlessly to the side of his neck.

Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he clapped his hand over the side of his neck.“Vitya!” he exclaimed in a thin whisper, staring at Viktor with wide eyes.“Really?”

Viktor grinned, cat-like, and shrugged.“I didn’t realize it would be so effective,” he said.

Yuuri just sighed, and tried to retreat into the collar of his shirt.“I can’t believe you gave me a hickey before a formal banquet!”

Viktor kissed his cheek, and Yuuri grudgingly let him.“It’s a love bite, solnyshko,” Viktor whispered.“Because I love you.” Yuuri let out a cute little squeak and covered his pink cheeks with his hands.

“Ugh, keep it for the bedroom, old man,” Yuri said, wrinkling his nose at them.

Viktor hid his frown.He had, admittedly, forgotten that Yuuri was standing witness to his flirtation.“Maybe it’s just a mark from Yuuri’s viola on his shoulder,” Viktor said with a significant nod in Yuri’s direction, doing his best to convince his fiancé to ever show his face in public again.

Yuri gave him an incredulous look.“For fuck’s sake, it’s on the right side!” he exclaimed.“Unless he’s for some reason decided to switch to a lefty viola, no one is going to believe that story.”

Yuuri sighed deeply, and uncovered his face just to bury it in Viktor’s chest.“Vitya, why?” he mumbled.

Viktor chuckled, and rubbed his hand up and down Yuuri’s back.“Solnyshko, no one will notice,” he said.“We can get some concealer before our flight home.”Yuri opened his mouth, probably to make another unhelpful comment, but Viktor glared at him until Yuri closed his mouth with a roll of his eyes.

Yuuri stood on his tiptoes, and then said in Viktor’s ear, “I’ll just have to get my revenge later.”Viktor blushed at that.His Yuuri never failed to surprise him.

“Yuuri!” Phichit cried happily, bounding over to them before Viktor could say anything else.

“Hey, Phichit,” Yuuri said, voice slightly muffled when his friend bundled him in a hug.

“So why are you guys late?” Phichit asked, pulling Yuuri farther into the large event room that the banquet was being held in.Viktor followed with a smile, and Yuri with a scowl, as Yuuri mumbled something about losing track of time and needing to change his clothes.Phichit held him away a little by his shoulders, and then his smile turned slightly evil.

“Nice hickey, Yuuri,” he snickered.

Yuuri gave a long suffering sigh, and flicked his friend in the middle of the forehead.“Thanks, Phichit.I appreciate it.”

“Didn’t know you were dating a vampire,” Phichit giggled.Yuuri just rolled his eyes.

“The man of the hour!” Chris cried and made his way over to them, thankfully interrupting the conversation.He was followed by JJ and his fiancé, as well as Otabek, so the six finalists, plus Viktor and JJ’s fiancé, were gathered in a tight cluster.

“Congratulations on your win, Yuuri,” JJ said, tipping his champagne glass in Yuuri’s direction.

Yuuri smiled, and said shyly, “Congratulations on third, JJ.”Viktor smiled proudly down at his fiancé, and squeezed Yuuri’s shoulder.“Congratulations to all of you,” Yuuri added quickly, blushing a little.

There were murmured wishes of congratulations in return, and then Otabek said directly, “Viktor, are you coming back to competition next year?”

Viktor smiled.“I plan on it,” he replied.

“Ugh,” Yuri said, making a face.“Great.Now I’ll have to _work_ to get first.”

“Yura, you came in second,” Viktor said patiently.

Yuri grinned at Yuuri.“I’ll correct that next year.”

Viktor reached out and ruffled his hair, knowingit would irritate him.“If you say so, kitten.”

Yuri stuck out his tongue.“So what are we supposed to do at this thing?” he asked.

Phichit shrugged.“Probably network,” he replied, glancing around.“The entire supporting orchestra is here, along with plenty of patrons and other big figures in the music world.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to dance with my Isabella,” JJ said, wrapping an arm around his fiancé’s waist.

Viktor grinned, and pulled Yuuri into his side.“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to some dancing,” he said, planting a kiss on the top of Yuuri’s head.“Can you dance, solnyshko?”

Phichit made a muffled choking sound, covering his mouth with his hands.“Oh, Yuuri can dance, all right,” he said in a voice thick with laughter.

Yuuri glared at his friend.“You should know that I’m always prepared to release those blackmail photos of you,” he said, and Phichit went pale.

“Right,” he said.“Lips sealed.Got it.”He waited until Yuuri looked away, and then winked at Viktor and mouthed something about telling him later.Viktor’s lips quirked into a small smile.He would always value learning more about his Yuuri.And from Phichit’s hints and Yuuri’s reaction, maybe it would be something… interesting.

“I know how to dance a little,” Yuuri said shyly, turning to look up at Viktor with wide, innocent eyes.“Mostly ballroom.I had a friend in college who taught me.”

Viktor tried to quash the flare of jealousy in his chest.“A friend?”

Yuuri nodded.“Yeah, she was a dance major,” he replied.“She needed a temporary partner to practice with for a project after her girlfriend broke her foot, so I offered to help her.I think I still remember a few things, if you really want to dance later.”

“Oh, my Yuuri, you’re so kind!” Viktor exclaimed, kissing Yuuri briefly on the mouth.“I love you.”

Yuuri blushed, but didn’t look away.“I love you too, Viten’ka,” he said, and then gave Viktor another kiss.

“Yeah, OK, this is boring,” Yuri Plisetsky said loudly.He glanced around, and then his eyes fell on the string quartet.“We should get our instruments and play some _real_ music,” he said.

“I don’t think most of the guests here would appreciate Swedish death metal, or whatever it is you listen to,” JJ said, a bit condescendingly.

Yuri sneered at him.“Beat me in competition, and then you can judge my music preferences,” he snapped, giving JJ a hard poke in the chest.

JJ blinked in surprise, but his fiancé chuckled.“He’s got you there, dear,” she said mildly, squeezing JJ’s shoulder.“Besides, I don’t see anything wrong with Swedish death metal.”JJ stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

“Ooh,” Phichit whispered, already pulling out his phone.“Drama at the banquet!Secrets revealed!”

“Excuse me?”

Viktor turned to see a young man, a teenager, really, standing in front of them and staring at Yuuri with wide eyes.None of the other musicians seemed to notice, too caught up in the brewing argument between JJ and Yuri, but Viktor gently tugged at Yuuri’s hand and his fiancé turned.

“Oh!” he said in surprise.“Hello.”

The teenager straightened, tugging at the hem of his ill-fitting suit.“My name is Fujiwara Hikaru,” he said, voice only trembling slightly, probably speaking in English for the listening Viktor’s benefit.“I was the assistant principal violist in the orchestra for your performance.”

Yuuri smiled gently.“Thank you, then,” he said.“You all did an absolutely wonderful job.I really appreciate the support.”

“Thank you, Katsuki-san,” Fujiwara said with a slight bow, wide eyes filled with earnest admiration.“You’ve… you’ve made a huge step for all violists today.Now we have a chance of actually being taken seriously and respected by all musicians.Thank you so much for everything you’ve done.”

Yuuri seemed a little taken aback, and then he smiled.“It’s my honor,” he replied softly, eyes suspiciously bright.“Your words mean a lot to me.”

Fujiwara fidgeted, and then said hesitantly,“If it’s not too much trouble, can I have an autograph?My friends and I back in Japan are pretty big fans.” 

Surprise flickered across Yuuri’s face, but he nodded.“Of course,” he said with a tentative smile, and then took the piece of paper and the pen that Fujiwara offered him.“What are your friends’ names?” he asked.

Fujiwara beamed.“Minami Kenjirou and Omiki Yuuto,” he replied, and awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck.“Kenjirou said he’d met you before.”

Yuuri chewed on his lip as he wrote on the paper in quick, efficient Japanese characters.“I remember meeting him,” he said quietly.“At the Tokyo qualifier, was it?”

Fujiwara nodded quickly.“He was ecstatic,” he said shyly.

Yuuri gave him a sweet smile, and handed the paper back.“Please wish him luck if he ever decides to play competitively,” he said, eyes bright.“And to you too.We need some more competitive violists.”

Fujiwara nodded, and gave Yuuri a small bow.“Dōmo arigatōgozaimashita, Katsuki-san,” he said, and then hurried away, blushing.

Viktor smiled at his fiancé, who was blushing almost as much.“That was… a bit unexpected,” Yuuri said hesitantly.

Viktor gave Yuuri a quick kiss.“Zvezda, do you realize now that you have fans?” he asked teasingly.

Yuuri pressed his face against Viktor’s chest and made a small, embarrassed squeaking noise.“I guess I do have a few fans in Japan,” he said, and then looked up at Viktor with serious eyes.“I didn’t realize how much of an impact I have, though.”He chewed thoughtfully on his lip, and then finished, “It’s a lot of pressure, but… I sort of don’t mind it.”

Viktor smiled down at him, and kissed him on the forehead.“I’m glad you’re finally realizing that people look up to you,” he said quietly.“I know I do.”Yuuri opened his mouth as if to protest, but Viktor quieted him with a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.“Nope, no protesting,” he said cheerfully.“I was your idol for several yearsNow it’s your turn to be the idol.You made history, Yuura, I want you to realize that.I want you to accept how incredible you are.”

Blushing, Yuuri nodded slightly.“I guess the gold medal does help,” he teased, pushing Viktor’s bangs out of his eyes a little.

“Now,” Viktor said with a grin, glancing back at the cluster of other musicians, who were still engrossed in the “discussion” about Swedish death metal.Yuri looked like he was going to blow a gasket, at sixteen.“I want to know about your international fans.”He turned, still clinging to Yuuri, and said, “Phichit, Yuuri has fans outside of Japan, right?”

Phichit lit up, and nodded excitedly.“I haven’t met a musician or someone in the music world yet who’s not a fan of Yuuri to some extent,” he said.

“I’m not,” Yuri and JJ said almost at the same time, and then glared at each other.

Otabek made an odd noise that could have been a choked off chuckle.“The Katsuki Yuuri poster in your room would disagree, Yura,” he said, putting a hand on Yuri’s shoulder.

The angry Russian shrugged his friend’s touch off and snapped, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I have a screenshot,” Otabek told him, not even bothering to speak in a quieter voice.

Yuri gaped at him, and then turned to the others and stammered, “I… It was Viktor’s fault!He guilted me into keeping it!”

Viktor laughed, and brushed the back of Yuuri’s neck with his fingertips."If that’s what you want to say, Yura.”Yuri just scowled at him.

“JJ,” Isabella said sweetly.“Don’t think I don’t know that you watch Yuuri’s performances on livestream when it’s available.I’m not oblivious, dear.”JJ opened and closed his mouth like a fish, at a loss for words.

“You have several fans at the orchestra I play with in Switzerland, Yuuri,” Chris said with a chuckle.“Including me.”

“See, solnyshko?” Viktor said, giving Yuuri’s shoulders a squeeze.“You’re not as unknown as you think you are.”

Yuuri pressed his face against Viktor’s arm and mumbled something in muffled Japanese.“I think I need something alcoholic to drink,” he said, voice small and embarrassed.Viktor smiled slightly.He liked teasing Yuuri, and he wanted Yuuri to know how influential he was, but he didn’t want to make his fiancé uncomfortable.

Viktor flagged down a waiter, and took two glasses of champagne from his tray, handing one to Yuuri.“Here you are, solnyshko,” he said.The other musicians followed suit, Yuri ignoring Otabek’s reproving glance as he downed half his glass in one gulp.

Yuuri took a sip of his drink, and nodded his thanks to Viktor.“Thank you, Vitya.”

Phichit toyed with his own glass of champagne, and said thoughtfully, "I wonder if I could convince the string quartet to play something from _The King and the Skater._ ”

“What’s that?” Chris asked curiously.

Phichit stared at him in horror.“How do you not know what _The King and the Skater_ is?” he asked incredulously.“It's only the best movie ever!”

“Phichit!” Christ said, making a fake shocked expression.“I had no idea you would watch something so racy!”

Phichit stuck out his tongue.“It’s non-negotiable, I’m sending you a link to stream it later, give me your phone.”Chris chuckled, but handed his phone to Phichit, who quickly put in his number and then texted him a link.“Watch it later,” he said.“You won’t regret it.”

Christ laughed quietly.“If you say so.”

Yuuri finished his drink, and grabbed another glass from a passing waiter.

“How much are you planning to drink tonight, solnyshko?” Viktor said in a low voice as Phichit began to explain _The King and the Skater_ to the other musicians, much to Yuri’s irritation.

Yuuri wrinkled his nose.“Not a huge amount,” he said.“I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

Viktor nodded.“I can stop you after your sixteenth flute,” he offered playfully.

Yuuri stared at him in horror.“Sixteen flutes?” he repeated incredulously.“Are you trying to get me black out drunk?”

Viktor chuckled.“No, of course not,” he said, and then leaned in closer and whispered in Yuuri’s ear, “If you’re black out drunk, we couldn’t have fun later.”

Yuuri went red, and he clutched at Viktor’s arm.

“It wouldn’t be fair if I beat you in cards if you were passed out,” Viktor continued, and Yuuri pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh.

“I’m glad to know you’re thinking of fairness, Vitya,” he said, and stood on his tiptoes to kiss Viktor.

Viktor grinning, finished his champagne, and then offered Yuuri his hand.“Do you want to dance, solnyshko?” Yuuri smiled shyly, and placed his palm in Viktor’s.“We’ll be back in a bit,” Viktor told the other musicians.

Chris winked at him.“Sure you will, love.”

“Have fun, kids!” Phichit added.

“I’m out of here too,” Yuri muttered, and slumped off in the direction of the table of food by one wall.

“I’ll make sure no one is murdered unless they deserve it,” Otabek said, and then followed his friend.

Viktor snickered, and then gently led Yuuri towards the center of the room, where a few other couples were already dancing with each other.“Do you want to lead?” Yuuri asked, looking up at him.

Viktor shook his head.“Probably not a good idea, when you’re the better dancer,” he pointed out, and then put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri smiled, and then rested his hand on Viktor’s waist, lacing the fingers of his other hand through Viktor’s.Viktor smiled as fiancé led them in a slow waltz that approximately followed the beat of the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6ctbJEZ778) playing quietly behind them.“Are you enjoying yourself?” Viktor asked quietly after several minutes of companionable silence, gazing into his Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri nodded, twirling Viktor around with a gentle smile.“I am, actually,” he said, and then ducked his head and blushed.“But I would enjoy myself anywhere if you were there.”

Viktor’s heart swelled with uncontainable love, and he kissed Yuuri on the tip of the nose.“Naturally, I agree, zvezda,” he replied.“I would go anywhere if you were there.”

Around them, the music changed, and Yuuri pulled Viktor into a slower dance, more swaying than moving.“I’m glad you’re here, Viten’ka,” he said quietly.“I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Viktor promised.He would promise anything to his Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled, leaning his head against Viktor’s chest and pressing his ear above Viktor’s heart. “I hope you never leave.”

Viktor just closed his eyes and pulled his fiancé closer, silently resolving to do just as Yuuri hoped.

***

Viktor woke slowly, and for a moment he was afraid that he had dreamed everything.That he had imagined Yuuri, imagined falling in love and living together and falling asleep in his arms, because that was the only possible explanation for why he was alone in bed.

It was then that he smelled something sweet and familiar, and heard soft sounds from the kitchen.Viktor slowly opened his eyes, a slow smile growing on his lips.He was alone in bed, yes, but that was because Yuuri was in the kitchen of his apartment, humming along to a song on the radio and cooking something that smelled wonderful.

Viktor snuggled down into his pillow and smiled, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.The spot beside him in their rumpled bed was still a little warm, and Viktor loved the fact that he could smell Yuuri’s shampoo along with the scent of his own cologne on their pillows.

Yuuri had finally moved in with Viktor a week after the ICC finals after Viktor and Phichit both insisted, and it was one of the best decisions Viktor had ever made.He absolutely adored waking up next to his beloved every day, eating meals together at the small round table in the kitchen, working seamlessly around each other in the bathroom, communicating wordlessly whenever one of them needed something, falling back into bed with each other and curling up together at the end of every day.The quiet, peaceful, natural domesticity never failed to make Viktor giddy with happiness, even after weeks of living together, and he was sure that it would always make him almost delirious with joy.

Viktor opened his eyes again and gazed up at the ceiling, smiling.He and Yuuri regularly stuck colored Post-Its to the ceiling when one of them had to get out of bed when the other was still asleep, to make sure that words of love were one of the first things the sleeping partner saw when they awoke.Today, Yuuri had written in his careful, rounded handwriting, _Good morning, my beautiful Viten’ka! Come to the kitchen when you wake up!I love you <3-Yuuri_

Viktor smiled and pushed the covers off his torso, sitting up in bed.Makkachin trotted through the slightly opened door, and nosed at his hand. “Hey, Makka, has Yuuri walked you yet?”

Makka made a small barking noise and panted up at him, giving him a wide doggy grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and threw his legs over the side of the bed before climbing up on it and reaching for Yuuri’s note.He gently tugged it off the ceiling of the bedroom without really having to stretch, and kissed Yuuri’s name before jumping off the bed and adding the note to the growing pile on his nightstand.He grabbed a pair of sweatpants from on top of the hamper and pulled a sort of clean t shirt over his head before wandering out to the kitchen, Makkachin at his heels.

Viktor found Yuuri standing at the stove with a spatula in his hand, quietly singing in Japanese to a song spilling out from the speakers on his phone as he cooked, wearing the apron he had brought from his old apartment to protect his pajamas, hair still mussed with sleep and glasses sliding down his nose.The Russian man leaned against the door frame for a moment and crossed his arms loosely over his chest, smiling.As he watched, Yuuri’s singing got a little louder during what was presumably the chorus of the song, and he added in a little wiggle for a dance move as he poked at whatever he was cooking in the pan on the stove with his spatula.

“Good morning, solnyshko,” Viktor said, voice still a little rough with sleep.He crossed the kitchen and latched on to Yuuri’s back, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Yuuri giggled, and gave Viktor a peck back.“Hi, Vitya,” he replied, and then turned his attention back to the food.“What are you making?” Viktor asked, looking over Yuuri’s shoulder, and then his eyes widened.

Yuuri sheepishly smiled as he poked again at the syrniki he was cooking.“I, um, hopefully I’m making syrniki,” he said shyly.“I think they’re a little crispy, but maybe still edible?”

Viktor buried his face in Yuuri’s neck, overcome with emotion.“My Yuura, lyubov moya,” he said.“How did you know?”

Yuuri patted the top of his head a little awkwardly.“I remembered you mentioning it once,” he said, reaching over the pan to turn off the stove.“And then when we were in Spain I got the recipe from Yuri Plisetsky.”

Viktor nuzzled Yuuri’s neck.“I love you so much,” he whispered.

Yuuri smiled, kissing him on the cheek.“I love you too, Vitya.Do you want to make yourself tea?”Viktor nodded, gave Yuuri one last kiss on the temple, and then got a mug from the cupboard.

“So what’s the occasion?” Viktor asked as he made his tea and Yuuri plated their breakfast.

Yuuri gave him a small smile.“A year ago today was the first time we met,” he said with quiet happiness.“I thought it would be nice to celebrate.It doesn’t really count, but it’s sort of like a one year anniversary?”

Viktor let Yuuri set the plate of syrniki down on the table before sweeping him into an enormous hug.“I love you _so_ much,” he repeated.

Yuuri laughed, looping his arms around Viktor’s waist.“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.“It would be a little awkward if you didn’t.”

Viktor pressed his face into Yuuri’s hair.“I’m so happy we’re going to get married,” he whispered.

Yuuri leaned against him more, and ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair.“So am I, Viten’ka.”They stood hugging in the middle of the kitchen for another long moment, and then Yuuri patted Viktor on the head and said, “Let’s eat, Vitya.”

Viktor reluctantly let go, and got them plates and forks while Yuuri got jam from the refrigerator.They sat down at the table together, and Viktor immediately took Yuuri’s hand, holding his fork in the other.He took an experimental bite of one of the syrniki, and couldn’t help but grin as the familiar taste filled his mouth.“Vkusno!” he exclaimed.

Yuuri smiled, taking a bite of his own breakfast.“It’s alright, then?” he asked nervously.

“Yuuri, it’s delicious,” Viktor told him.“I love it.Especially since you made it. That just makes it taste better.”

Yuuri blushed, and his smile widened.“I’m glad you like it, Vitya,” he said shyly, ducking his head.

Viktor took another bite, and made a small groan of satisfaction.“Vkusno,” he said again, extremely happy.Yuuri smiled, and hummed in agreement.

“So what are we doing today?” Viktor asked.For almost a month they had been planning for their wedding, making arrangements and getting the necessary components prepared, and doing wedding preparations with Yuuri was always the favorite part of Viktor’s day.Sometimes they bickered over silly, petty things, but most of the time it just reminded Viktor how he was going to marry the love of his life.

“We’re tasting wedding cakestoday,” Yuuri told him.

“Ooh, yum,” Viktor said happily, and then stuffed another bite of syrniki in his mouth.

“Not until after lunch,” Yuuri chuckled, squeezing his hand.

“How long until we get married?” Viktor asked, half-joking.“Can we just do it today?”

Yuuri smiled at him, eyes shining with love.“Two weeks, Viten’ka,” he replied.“Our wedding is in two weeks.”

Viktor gave him an adoring smile, and was unduly pleased to get one right back.“I can’t wait.”

***

Viktor paced in anxious circled, wringing his hands and fretting.In the corner of the room, Yuri Plisetsky looked up from his phone, pushed his bangs out of his face, and then snapped, "Stop pacing, for fuck's sake.It's making me nervous."

Viktor anxiously straightened his bow tie."I can't!" he exclaimed."I'm freaking out!"

Yuri huffed a sigh, but slid his phone back on his pocket."I don't know what you're so nervous about," he said."You and Katsuki are ridiculously smitten with each other.It's not like he's going to leave you at the altar or anything."

"I _know_ that," Viktor said."But I know he's going to get very nervous, and it's making _me_ nervous."

Yuri frowned."Why would he be nervous?" he asked.

Viktor sighed."Anxiety, probably," he answered honestly."When he's very nervous he starts entertaining terrible possibilities.He might be worrying that _I'm_ going to leave him at the altar."

"That would be a poor choice on your part," Yuri said, absently fiddling with his short ponytail."He's way out of your league."

"I know," Viktor sighed."But he doesn't seem to realize that."

"Well, why don't you just go talk to him?" Yuri drawled, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Viktor nervously brushed his bangs out of his eyes."Isn't that bad luck?" he said.

Yuri snorted."I didn't peg you as the superstitious type," he said."Besides, I think that's only if there's a bride, which isn't really applicable in your case."He raised an eyebrow, made eye contact with Viktor, and finished, "I think it would be worse luck if he had a panic attack in the middle of the ceremony or whatever."

Viktor nodded quickly."Thanks, Yura," he said, patting his best man on the shoulder, and then strode out of the room he was waiting in and down the short hallway to where he knew his Yuuri was.

Sure enough, he found Yuuri pacing in circles in his waiting room while Phichit tried in vain to calm him down.As soon as Yuuri caught sight of Viktor, he flung himself into his fiancé’s arms.

“Hey, solnyshko,” Viktor said soothingly, gently hugging the trembling man clinging to his torso.

“I’m sorry, Viten’ka,” Yuuri whispered into the soft material of his shirt.“I’m being stupid.I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“You're not being stupid, my Yuurashka,” Viktor quietly assured him.“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous before your wedding.I’m nervous too.But we’re going to be fine, we’re going to have a great time, and we’ll remember this as one of the best days of our lives.Da?”

“Da,” Yuuri agreed, still sounding a little nervous, but he loosened his death grip on Viktor.

Viktor gave him a quick peck on the lips.“Are you ready?” he asked.

Yuuri nodded, meeting Viktor’s gaze.His eyes were wide, but now Viktor could see anticipation in them rather than anxiety.“I’ll see you at the altar, Viten’ka,” he said with a firm nod.Viktor gave him another longer kiss, mouthed a quick thanks to Phichit for keeping an eye on his Yuuri, and then left the room with his own anxieties a little better.

He met an irritated looking Yuri in the hallway.“Are you about done, old man?” Yuri asked.“It’s pretty lame to be late to your own wedding.”

Viktor smiled nervously.“I’m ready,” he replied.“I think Yuuri is too.”

“Fucking better be, I didn’t fly all the way out here for you two to flake out,” Yuri muttered as he walked with Viktor down the hall towards the sanctuary where (hopefully) the rest of their guests were already waiting.

After much discussion, Viktor and Yuuri had decided to get married in a church, more for the aesthetic than for any particular religious significance, and as Viktor walked in a side door by the altar he decided he definitely liked the mood set by the sun shining through the stained glass windows of the small church.

Viktor took a deep breath and stepped up to the altar, Yuri at his side, before turning his attention to the doors.Yuuri and Viktor had decided that they wanted to have one of them walk down the aisle, despite the absence of a bride, and like responsible adults had played rock, paper, scissors to decide who would wait at the altar and who would walk down the aisle.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat when the door opened and he caught sight of Yuuri.His soon-to-be-husband was absolutely _radiant_ , with his hair slicked back and his contacts in, a light blush on his cheeks, form slim and gorgeous in his dark suit and blue tie and blue rose in his buttonhole.Best of all, Yuuri had an enormous, beautiful smile on his face as he walked down the aisle with his sister, and his smile only grew every moment he looked at Viktor.Viktor knew he had a huge, silly, starstruck grin on his face as his Yuuri joined him at the front of the church, and gently took Yuuri’s hands in his own.

“Hi, Viten’ka,” Yuuri whispered, expression soft and open and ecstatic.

“Hi,” Viktor whispered back, mouth dry.Yuuri squeezed his hands a little, sweet smile on his lips.

The officiant started to speak, talking about marriage and commitment and other similar things, but Viktor had eyes only for Yuuri, for Yuuri’s soft smile, for the happiness shining in Yuuri’s eyes, for the feel of Yuuri’s hands in his.He and Yuuri gazed at each other in lovestruck awe, completely absorbed with each other, until it was time to say their vows.Since Yuuri had gotten to walk down the aisle, Viktor got to say his vows first, and he swallowed and cleared his throat before beginning.

“My Yuura,” Viktor said softly.“My Yuurashka, zvezda moya, lyubov moya, moya rodstvennaya dusha, from the beginning of our relationship you have never failed to amaze me.Every day I spend with you is new and exciting and wonderful, _because_ I get to spend it with you.I don’t honestly know how I got so lucky as to marry you, but I am so happy I did.I want to spend the rest of our days together, Yuura.I want to stay by your side, and support you through everything, and be with you on the good days and the bad.I want to wake up next to you, and fall asleep curled up with you, to hold you and be so proud to call you mine.We’re in this together now, Yuura, for better, and I love you so much.I wish there were enough words in the world for me to tell you how much I love you, but proving it to you every day will have to be enough.Thank you, solnyshko.I love you, my Yuura.”

Viktor was crying a little, overcome with love and joy, and through his watery eyes he could tell that Yuuri was crying a bit as well.

His Yuuri squeezed his fingers lightly, and then said, “My Vitya.My Viten’ka.I’ve looked up to you since I was young and first saw you perform, and ever since then I’ve never taken my eyes off you.I never imagined I’d have the opportunity to meet you, fall in love with you, find my soulmate in you, but I have never been happier for anything.”He looked down a moment, composing himself, and then looked back up to meet Viktor’s loving gaze.“I read somewhere that every time you say the words ‘I love you’ the impact is diluted some, but I don’t think that’s true at all.My love for you is bottomless, Viten’ka, and I want to give that to you every time I tell you I love you.I want to always love you and support you, and take care of you when you need it, and trust that you will take care of me as well.I’m ready, Viten’ka, to start the rest of our lives together.I’m ready now, and I love you.Ai shiteru yo.Ya lyublyu tebya.”

Viktor didn’t even try to hide it as happy tears slid down his cheeks, and with trembling fingers he slipped a second golden ring onto Yuuri’s finger before Yuuri did the same.

“I now pronounce you man and husband,” the officiant said happily.“You may kiss the groom.”

Viktor smiled and gently cupped his husband’s face in his hands, leaning in and softly pressing their lips together.Yuuri carefully put his hands on Viktor’s waist like Viktor was something precious, and deepened the kiss.They kissed, close-mouthed, for a bit longer than was perhaps necessary before leaning back slightly.  Viktor pressed his forehead to Yuuri’s, and their breath mingled between them.“Hi,” he whispered breathlessly.

“Hi,” Yuuri replied.“We got married.”

Viktor laughed.“We did,” he replied.“Oh, wow.You’re my husband now.”Before Yuuri could say anything else, Viktor pulled him into a tight hug and clung to him.“Oh, my Yuura, my Yuura,” he whispered, trembling slightly.

Yuuri hugged him back just as tightly.“My Viten’ka,” he replied in a soft, awed voice.After a long minute they let go and faced their assembled guests.Yuuri’s family, sitting in the front row, immediately started clapping for them, and the rest of the guests quickly joined in.Phichit, the officially designated photographer, snapped picture after picture to commemorate the event.

Viktor noticed that there wasn’t a dry in among the guests, although admittedly it was rather small number- they had only invited family and close friends.Viktor even thought he caught a small sniffle from Yuri behind him.

“To the reception?” Viktor murmured, lacing his and Yuuri’s fingers tightly.Yuuri nodded, leaning against him, and together they made their way down the aisle and out the door of the church, walking around to the large courtyard in back that had been set up for their reception.The rest of the guests weren’t far behind.

Viktor immediately spotted the cake, sitting in the center of a table, and tugged at Yuuri’s hand.“Yuura, I want to eat the cake now,” Viktor said, trying to lead Yuuri over.

Yuuri just laughed.“Now, Viten’ka?” he teased.“But we haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”

“Boo,” Viktor said, wrinkling his nose.As the guests sat themselves at the round tables scattered around the courtyard, Viktor led Yuuri over to their wedding cake and swiped a bit of frosting on the tip of his finger before tapping Yuuri on the nose.

“Vitya!” Yuuri giggled, and then got a bit of frosting for himself and dotted Viktor on the cheek.

“Oh!Betrayal!” Viktor cried dramatically.“My love has defaced me on our wedding day!”

Yuuri giggled again, and then kissed the frosting off his cheek before saying, “Come on, Vitya, let’s sit.”

Viktor smiled, kissing the frosting off Yuuri’s nose before letting his husband lead them to their designated table.

All throughout dinner, Yuuri and Viktor flirted like lovestruck, giddy teenagers, earning plenty of ecstatic and gooey-eyed looks from their guests.Once the meal, which Viktor had insisted feeding Yuuri parts of, was over, they stood and walked back over to the cake.

“You can cut it, Yuura,” Viktor said with a smile, handing Yuuri the knife.Yuuri smiled back, and then carefully cut a small slice from the top tier after removing the cute figurines of two suited musicians from the top, one for himself and one for his husband.Viktor accepted the piece of cake and smiled before feeding a bite to his husband.Yuuri smiled, and took the cake, giving Viktor a bite.Viktor kissed his husband’s fingertips before they handed off the cake cutting duties to Toshiya and returning to their seats.Before Yuuri could sit down, Viktor pulled his husband to sit on his lap, and hugged him around the waist.

Yuuri laughed.“Really, Vitya?” he said, smiling down at Viktor.

Viktor smiled back.“I thought we just promised to stay close to each other,” he teased.Yuuri blushed, and fed him a bite of cake.They finished their cake with only a little more light-hearted teasing, and then Yuuri stood and offered Viktor a hand.

“May I have this dance, my husband?” he asked, and Viktor’s heart skipped a beat as he put his hand in Yuuri’s.It was twilight by then, and someone had strung up and turned on fairy lights that glittered in the trees around the courtyard, just enough to bathe the area in a soft, warm glow. As Yuuri and Viktor walked to the center of their makeshift dance floor, someone turned on an old record player from which the music they had chosen for their first dance as husbands spilled.

Yuuri pulled Viktor close, and they started to dance, stepping and twirling and dipping to the beat of a [waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zirn3M3ewQc%20).Yuuri laughed, a pure, unrestrained sound of happiness, and Viktor pulled him in for a kiss midway through the song.

They stayed like that, swaying together and gently kissing in the middle of the dance floor, as other couples came to join them.Viktor finally pulled back, and held Yuuri in his arms, gazing down at him just as Yuuri looked up.His husband’s eyes were dark and bright and clear, and joy and love shone clearly on his face, matching the joy and love that made Viktor’s heart swell to burst.

“I love you, Viten’ka,” Yuuri whispered, and kissed Viktor again.

Viktor sighed happily into his husband’s mouth, and gently kissed his beloved back.Everything was perfect, he never wanted the moment to end.

But they had the rest of their lives to look forward to, together.

They had all the time in the world.

***

“Are you nervous, Vitya?” Yuuri asked, coming up behind Viktor and hugging him around the waist. 

Viktor smiled and turned slightly, shifting his grip on his violin so he could properly hug Yuuri back.Yuuri, of course, looked absolutely stunning in his concert attire.Granted, Viktor believed that Yuuri looked stunning in literally anything- be it a suit, or his pajamas, or work-out clothes, or nothing at all- but there was something especially alluring about Yuuri with his hair slicked back and his collar starched and his suit jacket fitted carefully over his shoulders.The look was added to by the expression on Yuuri’s face, a mixture of confidence, excitement, and apprehension.

“I’m a little nervous,” Viktor admitted.“This _is_ my first official performance after my hiatus.But I’ll be OK.How are you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Yuuri said with genuine confidence.He kissed Viktor on the tip of the nose.“I am, after all, the ICC champion.”

Viktor chuckled.“You’re right, of course.Forgive me, oh champion, for forgetting that I married such an accomplished musician.”

Yuuri smiled, laughter in his eyes.“I suppose,” he teased.

Viktor kissed his husband on the forehead.

“Are you ready?” Yuuri asked, brushing his thumb over Viktor’s cheek.

Viktor nodded.“I think I’m ready,” he confirmed.“God knows we’ve been practicing this enough.”

Yuuri laughed.“That’s very true.”

“You’re on in three minutes,” one of the performance coordinators said to them as she hurried past.

Yuuri reluctantly let go of Viktor, giving him one last, lingering kiss.“I love you, my Viten’ka,” he said.

Viktor smiled.“And I love you, my Yuura.”He hefted his violin.“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Yuuri replied with a smile, and then grabbed his viola.

The two musicians stood side by side in the wings to the side of the stage as the house lights flickered, and then dimmed.Viktor smiled at Yuuri and squeezed his hand before they walked onstage together to wild, enthusiastic applause.

Yuuri and Viktor came to stand at the center of the stage, underneath the bright stage lights, and bowed together, still holding hands.As they straightened and let go of each other, stepping apart a bit so they would both have room to play, the applause died down.

Yuuri caught Viktor’s eye, head tilted slightly.The Japanese man was smiling softly at him, smiling like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.Viktor smiled back, hoping his smile conveyed just how much he loved his Yuuri.Yuuri nodded slightly, and offered a flicker of a wink in return.

In unison they lifted their instruments to their shoulders.The gold band on Viktor’s ring finger flashed under the bright stage lights, sparkling.When Yuuri adjusted his stance slightly, his ring glittering as well.The two musicians made eye contact again, and angled towards each other.A hush fell over the audience.Everything was frozen, breathless with anticipation.

Yuuri and Viktor smiled lovingly at each other, and then lifted their bows to their instruments and began to [play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNm3gVXh2o0).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> Anyway, Prodigy’s pretty much over. It’s been a wild ride! I have, actually, already started work on a new thing, so stay tuned if anyone is at all interested. It’s going to be pretty different, but hopefully just as fun. I’m aiming to have the first chapter out by next Monday or so.
> 
> Again, thank you so, so much for your support, it means the world to me. This fic would have been out a lot slower and probably also considerably shorter without all of the lovely encouragement and excitement from everyone who has read this, so thank you for being with me over the course of 20 chapters and 120k+ words :D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a swell day, dear reader!


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